My Girlfriend Is A Serial Killer
by Tigereye77
Summary: Emily saves Hotch and Jack from serial killer Beth, but a careless comment made in the heat of the moment, shatters the relationship between them. Can it be repaired before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Potential spoilers for a future episode! You've been warned! So if you are still with me, this is in referenced to the soon to air 7.10 episode where Hotch is supposed to get a romance with a woman named "Beth". The idea for this story evolved from a discussion on Twitter where I happened to say, "Wouldn't it be interesting if she turned out to be a serial killer?" Little did I know at the time that NCIS would actually do that on an episode that recently aired! Because seriously, Hotch + Beth = BOTCH, like in "botched". Did no one think of doing the name pairing thing before they named the character? This is a, I believe the term is "crack fic" so don't take it too seriously. It has some humor, romance, angst, bit of a mish mash. If you think this is a little out there, you should have been in some of those discussions on Twitter. There is an even crack-ier fic being planned! So enjoy this as it's meant to be enjoyed, a non-serious piece. It'll only be about 3-4 parts.**

It was Emily Prentiss' opinion that Aaron Hotchner was the dumbest jackass that ever walked the planet and when this was all over, he'd be lucky if she didn't kick his ass ten ways to Sunday.

She had tried to tell him there was something off about his new girlfriend, Beth, but the arrogant bastard actually had the gall to accuse her of imagining things and being jealous. Jealous! She was only concerned about his welfare, and more importantly, his son's, Jack. Well, if she was being totally honest, and right now she was just far too angry to be honest and generous, she might have been a smidge jealous, but instincts were going crazy when she met Beth and as the weeks progressed, the feeling just got stronger and stronger.

For weeks, she tried to ignore it until she couldn't anymore. Things just didn't seem to add up about Beth, but everyone else seemed to like her and Hotch was part way stupid over this woman. The only person she had noticed who seemed reticent about Beth was Jack, but the little boy had sensed that his father liked this woman, so he made an effort with her.

Emily didn't know who to talk to about her suspicions. She knew the rest of the team would pass it off as jealousy. Half of them thought she had a crush on Hotch anyway. Well, maybe at one time, but he was going a loooooooonnnnnngggggg way to destroying any warm fuzzies she might have towards him.

She had narrowed it down to Reid or Rossi as someone she could talk to and then the matter had been taken out of her hands when coming back from a custodial interview one day, Rossi had simply asked her,

"Do you think something is off about Beth?"

That had opened the floodgates and Emily had gone on for about fifteen minutes listing all of her concerns before she realized she was carrying on a monologue and Rossi was looking at her like she was out of her mind.

"I just meant, do you think she might not be into Aaron as much as he is into her."

Emily had wanted the ground to swallow her up, but Rossi had looked at her kindly and then his expression turned thoughtful. He asked her a few questions about her observations and then miracles of miracles, Emily saw a frown cross his face.

"I hadn't considered it," Rossi mused. He looked at her sheepishly. "Okay, maybe I was taken in by her pretty face and pleasant demeanor, but…you're right. Those are odd things. You know, Aaron does like her a lot."

"And he's turning a blind eye to potential warning signs. What are we going to do?"

She didn't know how it happened or how Rossi had managed to talk her into it, but she found herself knocking on Hotch's apartment door one Saturday afternoon when she knew he would be alone. Jack was with Jessica and he would be meeting Beth later. He was surprised to see her, but invited her in and offered her a drink.

Emily declined and plunged right in to what she had to say. It wasn't pretty. Hotch said some pretty horrible and nasty things. Jealous. Vindictive. Pining for him. Need to get over your crush. Never been in love before except maybe with a sociopathic terrorists so who really could trust her judgment. The last comment had stunned her speechless and Emily let him have it with both barrels.

"I don't give a rat's ass about you, Hotch!" she had snarled. "I'm worried about Jack! Because if you bother to get your head out of your ass and read the file I'm giving you, you'll find Beth is actually a black widow who has glommed onto single fathers, married them, sucked them dry and killed both the father and children. A finger print at one of the crime scenes and a photo of the suspect confirms it." She threw the file at his head noting with grim satisfaction when it hit him square in the face and stalked out of the apartment.

Obviously he must have read the file because come Monday morning, Rossi had pulled her into his office. He explained quietly that he spoke to Hotch on Sunday and after getting Garcia to do more extensive research, they had come to the conclusion Beth was actually the woman the New York police had dubbed The Merry Widow of Mayhem, the last place she struck.

Hotch, Rossi and Morgan were going to confront and bring in Beth that afternoon. Garcia, JJ and Reid were compiling the necessary paperwork and background evidence. Hotch had asked Rossi to ask Emily to pick up Jack from school.

Emily crossed her arms and glared at Rossi. "He couldn't ask himself?"

Rossi's eyes twinkled at her. "I think he was afraid you'd shoot him on sight before he could. I take it Aaron was a bit of a jerk when you spoke to him."

She snorted. "Jerk is the kindest word I would use to describe him."

Rossi nodded. "Look at it from his side, Emily. He liked Beth. Now to find out she was a serial killer who was plotting his and his son's deaths? Not what you want to hear from-" Rossi seemed to catch himself. "From someone." He cleared his throat. "But he knew you would be happy to help with Jack."

Emily sighed. No matter how mad she was at Hotchner, Sr., Jack Hotchner always had her heart. She nodded and left Rossi's office to go to her desk. She could feel Hotch's eyes on her, burning into her back, but she ignored it and him for the rest of the day. She helped the others with the paperwork as Hotch, Morgan and Rossi tracked down Beth. When the time came, Emily left the BAU to pick up young Hotchner.

As she pulled up to the school, she recognized Jack's teacher, Mrs. Harkness. Emily had picked Jack up a few times, as had JJ, Morgan and Rossi. Each of them along with Garcia and Reid were on Hotch's list of okayed adults for Jack. He never knew when something could come up so he made sure everyone on his team would be able to pick up Jack if he or Jessica couldn't. Usually, Emily volunteered and the school had become somewhat familiar with her. She had hit it off immediately with Mrs. Harkness so the women knew each other on sight.

"Emily!" Joan Harkness called out.

"Hi Joan!" She walked up to the other woman. "Agent Hotchner has been delayed and he asked me to get Jack."

"Oh," the teacher looked startled. "But Miss Elliott already came by."

Emily tensed up. "Beth Elliott?"

"Well, yes," Joan Harkness replied, her face marred by confusion. "She's picked up Jack several times, sometimes with Agent Hotchner. Is something wrong?"

"Where are they? Did they leave already?" Emily asked sharply.

"No, they're still in the class room. Jack forgot his jacket. Emily, what's going on?"

Emily simply tossed the teacher her cell phone. "Call Agent Hotchner and tell him Beth Elliott is here with Jack! Call now!" She raced into the school, her hand on her weapon, but not drawn. She came up to another teacher she vaguely knew, identified herself and informed her that a suspect was in the school with a student in Mrs. Harkness' classroom. The woman was to inform the other teachers and get the children out of the school as quickly and as quietly as possible. She then hurried into the building as the teacher went scrambling to make sure the rest of the children were safe.

Fortunately, it was the end of the day and most of the students were already out of the school. The teacher Emily had collared was fast and efficient and whatever children were still around were being quietly and quickly ushered out. Prentiss unholstered her weapon and cautiously made her way to room 6A, Jack's classroom.

There were large windows that faced out into the hallway, allowing Emily to peer into them without being seen by the occupants inside the classroom. She could see Beth helping Jack into his coat. Emily bit her lip. It was too dangerous to go in there with her gun pulled and not knowing if Beth had a weapon. She re-holstered her gun and simply walked past the windows to the door and entered the classroom.

"Beth!" Emily called out in surprise. "I didn't know you were picking Jack up. Hotch asked me if I could do it today since he called into a meeting with Chief Strauss." She was hoping Beth was here simply to pick up Jack and she hadn't been tipped off that the FBI were on to her murdering ways. If Emily could just get Jack out of the room, then she could take down Beth.

"Emily, hello. I guess Aaron got his dates confused and forgot I was picking up Jack today. Right honey?" she cooed at the young boy.

Beth may have the power to warp perfectly intelligent adult male brains, but she was a little less successful with a sharp six year old. Hotchner, Jr. had never really taken to Beth, but seeing his father enjoy the woman's company, he had made the effort to tolerate her. It helped that his frequent requests to be around Aunt Jessica and Aunt Emmy were typically granted, it meant less time with this woman Jack considered to be a big phony.

"Emmy!" Jack started to run forward to Emily but Beth suddenly reached out to grab his jacket and pull him back towards her. Her eyes narrowed at Emily even as she smiled. She held Jack close against her, causing a flicker of fear to cross the little boy's face. She was holding him too tight.

_Shit_. Emily thought. So much for trying to end this peacefully. "I can take Jack."

"I think Jack is fine where he is," Beth snapped. Her eyes flickered towards Emily's gun. Beth reached into the pocket of her coat and withdrew a switch blade. She held the knife to Jack's throat. "I think what's going to happen is right now is that you are going to take that gun and put it on that desk over there, or I'll slit the brat's throat."

"Emmy…" Jack's voice quaked.

Her eyes steady and her voice strong, Emily simply said, "It'll be alright, Jack." She unfastened her holster and gun from her belt and set it on the teacher's desk next to her, moving slowly, her eyes trained on the knife held to Jack's throat. "Beth, let Jack go and we'll talk about it. You'll still have me."

Beth let out a nasty laugh. "Oh yes, you've been a constant thorn in my side, _Emmy_." She gave Jack a little shake. "It was always, 'Can I see Emmy now?' 'Is Emmy coming over?' with this one. I had to put up with his constant whining for you the entire time I've been with Aaron."

"He's just a little boy and doesn't know better, Beth," Emily said in a calm voice. "But Aaron does care about you?"

"Does he?" She sneered. "You know how long it took him to finally fuck me? Weeks! It's the hardest I've ever had to work on a man! If there wasn't all that life insurance money from Haley, I would have dropped him a long time ago. Yeah, he's great in bed and God knows he knows how to use that enormous cock of his, but those moods he would get in! Geez!"

Emily winced listening to the crude language the other woman was using in front of Hotch's kid. She made a mental note to make sure Beth's beating was extra painful just for that.

"And then there's the damn BAU! Calling him at all hours! How's a girls supposed to hook a guy if he's always rushing off to another city?"

Beth continued to rant and rave, the knife moving further and further away from Jack's throat as she complained about the little boy's father. By this time, Emily had inched towards the other end of the teacher's desk where a small, brass paperweight in the shape of an apple was sitting. She made eye contact with Jack. She rolled her eyes slightly towards her right where the apple was and then looked down at the floor. Smart child that he was, Jack understood and nodded his head slightly.

His jacket was not zipped, but it was on him. When Beth suddenly gestured with the hand holding the knife, she moved it away from Jack's throat and above his head. Emily yelled out, "Now!" Jack threw himself towards the floor, holding his arms back so he slipped out of the jacket, leaving Beth holding it. Simultaneously, Emily picked up the apple paperweight and hurled it at Beth, striking the other woman in the shoulder. Beth staggered back, but held onto the knife as Jack scrambled out of the way and Emily charged forward.

"You bitch!" Beth screamed. She slashed at Emily who threw up her arm to protect herself. The blade sliced through her jacket and shirt, cutting into her skin and drawing a thin line of blood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack scrambling to his feet and running for the door. He hesitated and looked back at Prentiss.

"Jack, its okay, run and get help," she said softly to him. She heard the door open and close and small footsteps pounding in the hallway until they faded away. She turned back to look at Beth and gave the other woman a feral smile.

"Assault on a federal agent," Emily purred out. "You just gave me permission to pound your ass, bitch!" She dove forward.

* * *

><p>Hotch ran up the steps to the school, Morgan and Rossi on his heels. Jack nearly collided into his father in the doorway when they crossed paths.<p>

"Jack!"

"Daddy!"

Hotch dropped down to his knees and pulled his son into a fierce hug. "Are you okay?"

Jack was trying to wriggle out of his father's grasp. "She's going to hurt Emmy! She's got a knife and she made Emmy put away her gun! She's already cut her!"

"Where?" Rossi asked.

"Miss Harkness' room."

"Down the hall, left turn at the end. It'll be the third classroom on the left," Hotch informed them. He pulled Jack into another hug and for a moment was torn between staying with his son or helping Emily.

Morgan and Rossi took that decision out of his hands as Morgan dove into the building and Rossi only paused long enough to say, "Get Jack checked out, we'll help Prentiss." He ran after Morgan.

The two agents approached the classroom at a quick, but cautious pace. They could hear the sounds of a struggle and female shrieks along with some grunts. Before they reached the classroom, there was suddenly silence. Exchanging concerned glances, the two men quickened their pace and cautiously pushed open the classroom door.

Both men blinked at the scene before them.

Emily was sitting on an unconscious Beth's back where she had just finished cuffing her. The brunette lifted her head and the two men could see a bruise on her cheek, but that was about it though they would later realize she had a shallow cut on her arm and a few more bruises. Rossi would later suspect and have Emily confirm with a twinkle in her eye that the only reason she had the injuries was that she wanted enough proof to show that what she did to Beth was not excessive force, but simply an agent protecting herself.

Beth, from what they could see, was another story. A black eye, a fat lip, multiple bruises, the Merry Widow of New York looked more like a boxer who had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson and lost. She was also unconscious.

"Uh, you okay, Princess?" Morgan asked as he holstered his gun and walked gingerly forward. Morgan winced when he saw Beth's bruises and made a mental note to not aggravate Emily whenever they sparred.

"Oh, I have my share of bruises," Emily said as she got to her feet. Realizing she was moving too easily and seeing the skeptical looks on the men's faces, she suddenly wilted slightly and said in an unconvincing voice, "Ow?"

Rossi guffawed. "Just put on a better act in front of IA when they ask about this." He gestured to a prone Beth.

"She came at me with a knife. See? I'm cut." She held up her ruined sleeve where a trickle of blood had stained the fabric. She pointed to the switch blade lying a few feet away.

"Okay, get that checked out while we deal with her," Morgan said as he gave Emily a little push towards the door. After she had left the room he turned to Rossi. "You think she enjoyed that?"

Rossi grunted. "Maybe a little too much, but seeing how scared Jack was, I'm not feeling too kindly towards Beth in the first place."

* * *

><p>Emily walked out of the school into a chaotic scene of local police, FBI, parents, school staff and news crews. She saw two ambulances and since her arm was beginning to sting a little, thought she would head there before dealing with anyone else.<p>

As she walked up to the ambulance, she heard a small voice cry out, "Emmy!" Seated at the back of one ambulance was young Jack Hotchner with his father hovering over him. The little boy jumped down and ran over to him, Hotch trailing behind. Jack threw himself into her arms.

"You're okay!" he sniffled as he held on to her tight.

"Oh honey, of course I'm okay," she said in a soothing voice. "Hey, you were very brave today, my little man."

Jack pulled away and looked at her with watery eyes. "When a bad man had Mommy and she told me to run, she wasn't okay later."

Emily and Hotch felt their hearts constrict. She glanced up at his tortured eyes and despite the antagonistic feelings she had towards the man, she wouldn't wish this type of pain on him. She turned back to face his son.

"No, no she wasn't," Emily said softly. "And I know how much that hurt and how sad it made you and your Daddy. It made me sad too. But Jack, I'm okay. I'm okay and I'm here."

"You won't go away?" he asked in a small voice.

Emily hugged him. "Oh sweetie, no matter what happens I'm always going to be there for you, just like your Mom is. You may not see her, but she's always with you."

"Are you always with me, Emmy?"

"You betcha!" she said with a grin. "It's because you're my best guy! I can't give up my best guy!" She pulled him towards her to give him a warm hug.

"I love you, Emmy," the little boy sighed in her ear, warming her heart and startling his father.

As Hotch watched the two interact, he was trying to sort out the storm of feelings within himself. He was reeling from the revelations about Beth, a woman Jack had never warmed up to. But here his son was confessing his affection and love for Emily Prentiss, a woman with whom he had accused of being incapable of recognizing true love two days ago. There were a lot of messes to clean up now that Beth was in custody and Jack was safe, one of the biggest being his relationship with the woman before him.

"Jack," he interrupted with a hand on the boy's head. "Why don't we let Emily get checked out to make sure she's okay?"

The woman and child separated and Jack looked at her anxiously. "Do you have owwies, Emmy?"

"Just tiny ones," she said in a loud whisper. "Don't worry, they'll be okay." She stood up and with a smile at Jack, started to move towards the ambulances. Hotch stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Emily, I don't know what to say. Thank you for saving Jack. I'm sorry-," Hotch began in a contrite, emotion-choked voice.

"Don't," she said in a low tone, so Jack wouldn't catch the snarl in it. "I did it for Jack. But you and me? We're not okay and I suggest you take your hand off me and keep your distance, _sir_." She gave the 'sir' a level five 'screw you' tone that she normally reserved for Strauss.

Hotch dropped his hand and watched as she walked away from him, knowing he had far to go to make things up to Emily Prentiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: Thank you for those who nominated my two stories, "A Rose By Any Other Name" and "Reckoning" for the Profilers' Choice Awards. The final ballot is up so you can vote if you wish. forum. fanfiction. net/topic /74868/ 51253709/1/ (just eliminate the spaces to make the link work). Voting ends November 30th. There are a lot of good stories nominated, maybe some you haven't read before so it might also give you an opportunity to discover a new story.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so my crack fic took a wee bit of a serious turn with this part. I hope to get back to crack fic goodness in the next part. Thank you for all the kind comments. **

The next few days passed in a whirl of unpleasantness. It was bad enough that his girlfriend turned out to be a serial killer, but as the head of the BAU's most elite team, he didn't even figure it out himself. Hotch was bracing himself for at least some good natured ribbing but it never materialized. He later found out that Emily and Dave had agreed to let everyone, including the rest of team, think it was he who had been the first one to become suspicious, not Emily. They allowed him to save face with everyone else, which was more than he deserved considering how he had treated Emily when she first told him. This kind gesture made him hopeful that her anger towards him was ebbing, but she still avoided him, only spoke to him when necessary and only on professional matters and each time she walked away from him, Hotch realized it was the best he could hope for. For now.

But that wasn't even the worst thing about this entire situation. The worst thing about the debacle with Beth was how it had impacted Jack. He was older now and this time he had been outright threatened with a knife held to his throat. This incident was embedded much more in his memory than Foyet had been and it was giving him nightmares almost every night. Hotch would bring him into his own bed and sleep with Jack, but even that started to lose it's calming affect after two nights. Nothing he did seemed to be enough. Then on the fourth night after the incident, Jack told Hotch exactly what he needed.

"Can I call Emmy?"

Hotch hesitated.

Things were still very cool between the two of them and he had only exchanged a few dozen words with her before he took time off to be with Jack. He wasn't even certain she would take a call from him. However, Jack looked appealingly at him and Hotch knew he could not refuse his son's request.

"Sure. Let's see if she's home," Hotch said as he nodded his head. He picked up the phone and hit the speed dial number for her. The line began to ring and he handed the phone over to Jack. He could hear Emily's crisp, "Prentiss" as his son grabbed hold of the phone.

"Emmy?"

He could hear the voice at the other end lose the crisp professionalism and become softer, warmer.

"Jack? Honey, are you okay?"

Hotch watched and listened as his son spoke to the woman at the other end of the line. He could see the anxiety and tension melt away from Jack's tiny frame as the soothing voice murmured into his ear. Jack would occasionally mumble something into the phone, nothing earth-shattering in the beginning, just mundane things, trying to pretend it was just a normal call. But he gradually opened up more to Emily and in turn, gave Hotch a little more insight into what was bothering him.

"And you're okay, Emmy?" Jack's voice was anxious and it caused Hotch to tilt his head to the side as he watched his son with thoughtful eyes.

He heard a soothing murmur at the other end as she reassured the boy that she was fine.

"I-, I had a bad dream last night, Emmy," Jack said haltingly into the phone. Hotch could hear an inquiring murmur from the other end of the line. Jack twisted his body away from his father and spoke low into the phone, but Hotch could still hear him. "I dreamed that you got hurt and you-, you left, Emmy. Like Mommy."

Hotch felt his heart wrench. He thought his son had been dreaming of his frightening moments in the hands of Beth when his own life was being threatened. Instead, he was dreaming of losing another woman who had become important to him. No wonder he hadn't been completely reassured by his father's presence after a nightmare. Jack had needed to know that _Emily_ was still alive and well because it was she who had been hurt or killed in his nightmares.

The soothing sounds were already flowing from the other end and he could see Jack listening with rapt attention to what Emily was saying to him. For a few minutes, Hotch simply watched as Jack slowly began to relax even more. He even let out a little giggle that made Hotch smile slightly. He murmured back something into the phone, listened and then laughed a little more. A few more minutes of this and then he said in a clear voice, "G'night, Emmy. Okay, here's Daddy!" He handed Hotch the phone.

"Okay, Buddy, go hop into bed and I'll tuck you in," Hotch said to Jack. He watched his son scamper off before he spoke into the phone. "Emily?"

"Has he been having nightmares every night?" she asked, her tone concerned and anxious.

Despite the situation and the current state of their relationship, he couldn't help but feel a warm wave of affection wash over him knowing how concerned she was about his son.

"Yeah, since the school," Hotch confirmed.

She sighed softly. "It's to be expected. It was a traumatic experience for a child."

It wasn't meant to be a criticism, but Hotch couldn't help but feel the sharp reminder that he had put his child in that situation by his poor choice of girlfriend and that brought to mind the harsh words he had hurled at Prentiss when she tried to warn him.

"Emily, look, about what I said-," he began, but she cut him off.

"Stop. Just stop," she sighed wearily. "The important thing right now is helping Jack. If calling and talking to me helps, I'm fine with that, but he probably should start seeing someone professionally too. Didn't he see someone after Foyet?"

He swallowed his disappointment and nodded his head before he realized she couldn't see him. "Okay, you're right. Jack is the most important person right now. And yes, we have an appointment to see his therapist tomorrow actually. But I think it helped that he got to talk to you tonight. I hadn't realized that you getting hurt was behind his nightmares. He hadn't wanted to talk about them with me."

"He's trying to adjust," Emily replied. "Like I said, I'm happy to talk to him when he feels he needs to hear my voice."

"Thank you, Emily," he said softly.

"For Jack, of course. Any time," her voice was equally soft. There was a small pause before she said in a much firmer, crisper tone, "Well, I better go and let you tuck Jack in. Good night, Hotch."

"Good night, Emily," he returned before he heard the soft click of her hanging up on her end.

* * *

><p>The combination of speaking with Emily and seeing his therapist seemed to help Jack. While the nightmares continued, they seemed to lessen in intensity and frequency. However, it also meant that Jack would place nightly calls to Emily before he went to bed. She always spoke to his son, soothing him, calming him, a balm on his small troubled soul. And as he watched his son listen to the gentle woman at the end of the other line, Hotch felt the tension and anxiety melt away from his own body just as easily as it did from Jack's.<p>

They only spoke a few words to each other. Jack would say good night to Emily and hurry off to bed. Then Hotch would speak to her about Jack. Always about Jack. They never spoke of anything else and once he assured her that his son was starting to heal, she would say goodnight and hang up. They couldn't have exchanged more than a couple of dozen words, but just those few seconds, maybe a minute of conversation helped to erase the pain, shame and embarrassment he felt in the wake of the Beth debacle.

A week after the bedtime calls began, Hotch was back at work and he found himself eagerly anticipating seeing Emily in person. He arrived at his usual time, well before anyone else. Or so he thought. Already at her desk was the agent he was so eager to see.

Emily stood next to her desk, her head bent over a file, her back towards him. The bullpen was empty. They were quite alone. His leather soled shoes made no noise on the low pile government building carpet and she seemed to be fully engrossed in the file. He came up behind her and stopped, expecting her to turn around and acknowledge his presence. Hotch waited, smelling her unique scent and admiring the dark fall of her hair. Finally, he cleared his throat.

Emily started and her head snapped around as she looked at him with startled, wide eyes.

"Hotch!"

The corners of his mouth tilted up a fraction as he took in her surprised look and the slight flush to her cheeks. Seeing her recalled the warmth he experienced in their brief, nightly chats. He had missed her and he finally realized he had been missing her long before he had even met Beth, even before she was forced to go into hiding because of Ian Doyle.

During Emily's time away, he obsessed over those days leading up to her departure, berating himself for missing the signs that she was in distress. For a group of profilers, they had failed one of their own miserably, never picking up on the signs that something was very wrong with her. She had begun to pull away, to hide from them, from him, and he hadn't noticed until it was far too late. During that time, in the back of his mind, he had noticed something was missing from his life, something he had come to depend upon, but he had never really stopped to wonder what it might be.

It wasn't until he was forced to decide on her behalf that she would go into hiding, pretend she was dead and after she had left that it had hit him. There was a void in his life. An Emily Prentiss sized void. And when she returned, he had hoped it would go back to being the same that she would once again fill that empty spot she had left. But she hadn't. She had still held herself slightly back. She was there for them once again, but she wasn't. He could feel her hesitation and she was still avoiding him, deftly dodging his gently probing questions. She would only talk to him about Jack. Whenever he tried to ask about her, she would deflect the question with some humorous remark or story that would push him off on another topic

Maybe that was what had made him vulnerable to Beth. He wasn't the type to pick a woman up at the park, but he had ruefully realized later that Beth had selected him. Hotch had wondered if his loneliness, in part created by the losses he had suffered, made him less able to spot the danger Beth had been. Maybe, since there was an unpredictability in part of his life, Emily's past and her subsequent departure and return, he had fastened on to something that had a sense of normality about it: dating a woman who seemed ordinary.

And that had nearly turned out to be one of the worst mistakes ever. Not only had it traumatized his son, but it had pushed the woman he knew had left an empty spot in his life, even further away.

"I didn't know you were back today," she said to him as she tried to control her racing heart. Her eyes became clouded with worry. "How's Jack?"

"He's doing better. Your nightly calls have helped a lot. Thank you," he replied in a sincere tone, his eyes bright with gratefulness.

She smiled slightly at him and shrugged her shoulders. She bent her head over the file she had been reading, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. "It's not a problem. I'm glad I could help Jack with his nightmares," she murmured as she tried to move around him.

Hotch reached out his hand to grab her arm. "Emily," he said softly, stopping her. "Please."

She let out a small sigh and with great reluctance, she looked up into his face, a face that was tired, pale and showed much regret.

"I'm so sorry for what I said to you. I didn't mean any of it. I was just upset when I heard what you had found out about Beth. I shouldn't have said those things to you."

He had hated those words the second they had spilled from his mouth. That was why he had been so silent when she snapped back at him, threw the file she held at his face and stormed out of his apartment. It's why he had stood there, stunned, not only by the revelations about Beth, but also by the wounded look on her face. She looked as though he had physically struck her.

He had considered going after her, calling her, but then he had looked at the file as he gathered the scattered papers and other things took precedence. There was a killer to catch, a killer who had him and his son in her sights. Emily would have to wait and at the time, a part of him was confident that it was something he could easily fix. But when she had refused to speak to him later unless it was work-related, when she avoided him when possible and the only look she would give him was the coolly professional mask he had not seen directed at him in years, Hotch knew that a simple apology to her was not enough. Not to fix this.

"It doesn't matter," Emily said with a negligent shrug as she made to move past him again, but Hotch tightened his grip on her arm. Emily sighed once more. "Hotch, its fine."

He frowned down at her. She still wasn't looking at him. "Of course it matters. I was a jackass."

"You were upset about, Beth."

"And I took it out on you and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Emily."

"It doesn't matter."

"Why do you keep saying that?" he asked her in a confused tone. "Emily, look at me."

Slowly she raised her head and he saw that cool professional mask still on her face and his heart sank.

"Is that how it's going to be?" he asked softly. "Is that going to be the sum of our relationship from now on? Just a professional one? Can we just go back to what we were? Friends?"

"I-, I-, I don't know, Hotch," she said softly. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet and gently disengaged her arm from his grasp. She took a few steps back from him. "What you said, about me and Doyle-. It's too soon, Hotch. Right now, I just…I'm…." Emily sighed. "I'll always be grateful to you for all you did to help me with Doyle and I'm always happy to help Jack. But you and me? Right now, I think it's best if we just keep things professional."

Hotch shoved his hands into his pants pockets and stared stonily back at her. "If that's what you want."

"I think it's what's best right now," she replied. She gave him a searching look before nodding her head gently. "Excuse me, but I have to get this report down to forensics." She spun on her heel and walked out of the bullpen, Hotch watching her leave.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: Thank you for those who nominated my two stories, "A Rose By Any Other Name" and "Reckoning" for the Profilers' Choice Awards. The final ballot is up so you can vote if you wish. forum. fanfiction. net/topic /74868/ 51253709/1/ (just eliminate the spaces to make the link work). Voting ends November 30th. There are a lot of good stories nominated, maybe some you haven't read before so it might also give you an opportunity to discover a new story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So according to CBS' press release for the BOTCH episode, Hotch is supposed to make a "connection" with "Beth". I think my idea that she's a serial killer targeting Hotch is likely much more interesting! Part 3 of this Crack Fic!**

* * *

><p>"So, how's Jack doing?" Rossi asked as he stood in the doorway of Hotch's office.<p>

"Better, thanks to his therapist and Emily," Hotch replied. His head turned slightly as he looked out his window into the bullpen. Emily's desk was the only one of his team's that he could see from his own desk. He saw her head bent over her keyboard as she typed something on her computer.

Rossi followed Hotch's gaze and saw him staring at their pretty brunette colleague. "Emily?" he asked. "What does she have to do with Jack?"

Hotch sighed, tearing his gaze away from the woman they were discussing. "I thought Jack's nightmares were centered around Beth threatening him. It turns out they were more about Emily being hurt or killed."

It clicked for Rossi. "Like Haley." The older man sighed. "Poor kid. He's been through Hell and back a couple of times."

"And each time, it's been my fault," Hotch said in a grim tone. "I've brought the threat in to our lives both times. First with Foyet and then Beth."

"Hotch, you can't blame yourself," Rossi protested. "Both of them targeted you. There was nothing you could have done to prevent that. But you did what was necessary to protect your family."

"You mean Emily did," Hotch said as his eyes turned once more towards the bullpen.

"If you're going to beat yourself up over not spotting Beth for who she truly was, then you're going to have to blame the rest of us too. None of us sensed anything was off about her except Emily and even she thought she was wrong for weeks until she just couldn't ignore her gut anymore. So cut yourself some slack where Beth is concerned." Rossi's eyes turned shrewd and calculating as he continued to watch the younger man watch the beautiful woman in the bullpen. "Now, the way you treated Prentiss, that's a whole other story."

Hotch's head snapped back towards Rossi who almost laughed aloud when he saw the mixture of embarrassment, shame, anger and annoyance on his old friend's face.

"So, what exactly did you say to Emily?" Rossi asked curiously.

Hotch's face flushed, but he knew that Dave wouldn't leave it alone and told his old friend what he recalled of his conversation with Emily a few weeks ago. He watched as Dave's jaw dropped open in shock and then slowly closed as his face transformed into a dark, angry scowl.

"Shit, Aaron, _I_ might consider kicking your ass," Rossi snapped. "How can you say something like that to Emily? About Doyle? Really?"

Hotch didn't even flinch in the face of Rossi's anger because it nowhere near matched the self-loathing he felt for himself. "Trust me, I regretted the words the second I heard them come out of my mouth," Hotch sighed.

"Then why say them?"

"I was angry! Do you know how long I've been alone? Then I finally find someone, someone who seemed to like me for who I was and Emily looked like she was trying to ruin it."

"She was looking out for you and Jack."

"I know, but at the time I was angry and resentful," Hotch snapped back. He looked back out into the bullpen and watched as Emily stood up to go to the break room, her water glass in hand. "It wasn't even about Emily. It was more about realizing that I'll probably never find someone again."

"Hotch," Rossi began softly, his anger already dissipating. "Beth was a predator. She molded herself to be what you wanted and needed at the time. It wasn't real and it doesn't mean that you won't find someone, someday." A sly look came into the older man's eyes and he looked out the window and watched as Emily came back with her glass of water to sit down at her desk again. "Maybe sooner than you think."

Rossi's subtle insinuation went over Hotch's head. "In the meantime, I've got a lot of ground to make up with Emily."

"Mmmm hmmmm, any idea what you're going to do?" Rossi asked, the wheels in his head turning.

Hotch let out a loud sigh. "Not a clue. Right now she's asked for some distance and I'm going to give that to her until she signals otherwise."

Dave smothered a sigh of exasperation. For an alpha male used to taking charge in every situation, Aaron could be such a wuss in all matters Emily Prentiss. Rossi suspected it was fear of ruining whatever relationship they did have together, but right now, Emo Hotch wasn't what was needed and he was seriously irritating Rossi.

It looked like it was up to Papa Dave to make things right.

* * *

><p>The great Prentiss Cold Front, as Rossi had dubbed it, continued for at least another week. Not that Rossi didn't think Emily had good reason to be angry with Hotch, the other man had behaved like a jerk, but Dave was getting tired of seeing Aaron gazing after her with sad, hound dog eyes. It was getting on Rossi's nerves, so he decided to hurry things along.<p>

The only problem was that Emily Prentiss wasn't a woman you hurried along. And if Rossi spoke to her about Hotch, he knew the beautiful brunette would just tighten her lips into a straight line and become even less likely to bend where Hotch was concerned.

It was too bad because the two were perfect for each other. While Rossi hadn't seen the warning signs regarding Beth, he hadn't really liked her much either. But Aaron had seemed happy with her so he kept his mouth shut, but he had long thought Emily was the perfect match for his friend. Now it was his chance to see if he was right.

The opportunity came when a custodial interview in Seattle came up. Hotch was going and he was trying to decide who to take with him. He was thinking of JJ since it would be her first one and he thought she could do with the experience, but Strauss nixed that idea, still upset with the blonde for allowing Garcia to go into a hostage situation. JJ was grounded and on desk duty until Strauss decided otherwise. Reid was visiting his mother and Morgan was teaching a class at the Academy. So that left Emily and Rossi himself.

"I'm not going," Dave told Hotch. He gave Hotch a pinched look and held his hand over his stomach. "I think I had some bad linguine and clams last night and, ooooohhhhh," he gave a rather convincing groan.

Hotch looked at him with a bit of trepidation on his face because Rossi did look like he was about to throw up at any second.

"Geez, Dave, are you going to be okay?" Hotch asked in concern.

Rossi let out a dramatic groan. "I'll live, but it won't be pretty if I get on that plane. And probably won't smell too good either."

Hotch's nose wrinkled as he imagined the mess and smell in the jet if Rossi was experiencing a bad case of food poisoning. No, it wouldn't be pretty.

"I guess I'll have to take Prentiss with me," the younger man said slowly. He looked out his office window in the bullpen where Emily sat at her desk, talking to someone on the phone. "She's not going to like it."

"It's her job," Rossi said crisply, then realized he didn't sound particularly sick. He let out another moan. "You know she's always professional."

Hotch nodded his head slowly. That was true. He clapped his hand on Rossi's shoulder. "Feel better. Take the rest of the day off."

"Thanks, Hotch. Sorry, I couldn't go with you this time," Rossi sighed as Hotch made his way down to the bullpen. Rossi leaned back slightly so he could look out of Hotch's office door and watch the brunette couple.

He saw Hotch approach Emily hesitantly. He waited until she had finished her phone call before he touched her shoulder. As Hotch explained to her that she would be accompanying him on the interview in Seattle, Emily's face remained emotionless. Finally she nodded and began to straighten up her desk in preparation for the trip. Rossi knew she hated leaving a messy desk when she would be gone for more than a few hours. Hotch watched her for a moment before he spun on his heel to come back to his office and grab his go-bag and the files he would need. Rossi hastily dropped back fully on the couch, letting out a small moan.

"Everything go okay with Emily?" Rossi asked in a low voice, punctuated with a small groan.

"Of course. She's a professional," Hotch said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. He didn't know how much longer he could take this "professional only" relationship with Emily. In the beginning, when she first joined, it was easy. He hadn't known anything about her. She was only Prentiss to him. He hadn't gotten to know Emily yet. Now that he knew her, been her friend, he missed her. He missed her very much.

This trip might be what was needed. They were away from everyone else. They would have to stay at least the night after the interview, which would give them time to talk. Hotch's mouth thinned into a grim line. He decided then and there that they would talk about this and finally get things settled once and for all.

Rossi watched as the wheels turned in Hotch's head. He could see the younger man come to a decision and from the way his mouth thinned into a single line, Dave knew his friend had come to a decision about Emily and that he was going to take this trip as an opportunity to settle things between them. Which only meant that Rossi's plans for the couple would be even more important.

After wishing Hotch a safe trip, Rossi watched as his friend stopped by Emily's desk where she was putting on her coat. Both of them moved to pick up Emily's bag and their hands accidentally met. She gave him a pointed look and Hotch removed his hand. Emily pushed past him and moved towards the elevators. Rossi saw Hotch let out a small sigh before he followed Emily.

Dave fished out his cell phone and hit a speed dial number.

"Garcia, I think we need to get Operation Thaw Prentiss moving."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: Thank you for those who nominated my two stories, "A Rose By Any Other Name" and "Reckoning" for the Profilers' Choice Awards. The final ballot is up so you can vote if you wish. forum. fanfiction. net/topic /74868/ 51253709/1/ (just eliminate the spaces to make the link work). Voting ends November 30th. There are a lot of good stories nominated, maybe some you haven't read before so it might also give you an opportunity to discover a new story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you all for the kind comments. The more I hear and see of Beth, the more I think Criminal Minds is truly messing THAT up. I think making her a serial killer might actually make her and the story more interesting.**

The plane ride was silent after the first hour. For the first hour, he could talk to her about the interview they were going to do, but after that, especially since she asked for time to read the files, a request he couldn't legitimately ignore, they had lapsed into silence. Even when she was done reading the information, Hotch still couldn't speak to Emily. When she had started her reading, she had slipped in the earbuds to her iPod, and when finished with her work, simply closed her eyes and continued to listen to her music.

Okay, Hotch knew he was big jerk to her and he said something he shouldn't have ever had said and she had a right to be angry at him, but how long was this going to last? He missed her. He missed the fact that she seemed to be the one who always remembered to order something for him for their meals while on a case and he was too busy to think about food. He missed the warm, concerned look in her eyes when she sensed he was having a bad day or something was troubling him. He missed being able to stop by her desk or if he happened to see her walking by, call her into his office to discuss a puzzling aspect of a case. He missed her breezy hello's and her good nights that were always accompanied by a gentle nudge to get him to go home early to Jack.

Hotch simply missed Emily.

In some ways, this was even worse than when she was in hiding from Doyle. That separation was against all of their wills. This freeze out, she was deliberately doing. She was making it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, but this was no longer acceptable to Hotch. This trip, they were going to settle things once and for all.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean there's only one room available?" Hotch demanded as Emily stood next to him frowning at the hotel manager.<p>

"Sir, I'm sorry, but there is a convention in town and for some reason, the second room you had booked got released." Aloysius Creighton was an old hand at the hotel business and he had seen it all. Two glaring FBI agents weren't going to rattle him, nor were they going to get an additional room.

"Well, you're just going to have to tell who ever is in our second room that there has been a mistake and they'll have to vacate it," Hotch snapped out. Really, this trip was not going well. He could almost feel Emily's eyes burning into him with suspicion, wondering if he had engineered this fiasco in some way to force her to talk to him.

"Sir, if you want to ask someone who is here for the Widows & Orphans of Fallen American Servicemen Who Volunteer for Charitable Works to leave that room, be my guest," sniffed Creighton. His sniff clearly tacked on a, "Go ahead and be a world class douche" to that comment.

Hotch flushed and looked over at Emily whose frown had deepened.

"It's fine," she said tightly. "It's only for one night. We can share the room." She gave Hotch a hard stare. "We are professionals, after all."

Emily was drawing a clear boundary between them. She was still stubbornly holding to a "just co-workers" relationship between them. Hotch felt a muscle in his jaw working. This was getting ridiculous! He said something stupid, it admits that and has admitted it to her, but she was acting childish! He might as well take her over his knee.

The image of Emily Prentiss bare-bottomed and bent over, offering up for him what he has always thought was a rather shapely ass flashed into his head and Hotch completely lost his train of thought. He wasn't certain what expression he had on his face, but he saw both Emily and the manager giving him strange looks. Hotch mentally shook his head, trying to erase the image of Emily bent over before him from his mind. _Angry at the hotel manager. Check. Get back on track, Hotch._

"You're very lucky. I don't think there's another room available in town, well, at least not at a decent hotel. There seems to be an inordinate amount of conventions taking place this week. Now about the room…"

The manager was muttering something, but Hotch was still trying to regain his equilibrium and Prentiss was staring hard at him, uncertain what to make of the flush in his face. _He was this angry over a stupid hotel room mix-up?_ Preoccupied, neither one heard what Creighton was saying. Hotch simply grabbed the key cards from him, vaguely heard the room number and the location to the elevators and followed Emily who was walking in that direction.

If either had bothered to listen, then when they walked into their room, they may not have been surprised. But if they had bothered to listen, they most likely would have still been down in the lobby arguing with the manager. The ride up in the elevator had been silent and the silence continued to the door of their room. It was still hanging between them when Hotch swiped the key card in the slot and opened their hotel room door. They walked in and if they hadn't been quiet before, what they saw would have dried up any words.

There was only one bed in the room.

Hotch and Emily stood there for a few moments, simply blinking in disbelief as their minds tried to process what was in front of them.

One bed. That they'll have to share one bed.

They turned to look at each other and simultaneously, they moved: Hotch headed for the phone to bitch out the manager and get a solution to this while Emily wheeled around to leave the room. Hotch begins to call out to her, but she's already out the door.

He is about to follow her, when he realizes Emily left the door propped open a little by flipping the security latch towards the door so it falls on that curved piece of metal before it can shut completely. Hotch then hears her hailing someone and asking about a rollaway bed and realized she's likely talking to one of the housekeepers they had seen in the hallway.

Hotch's call is connected and he's speaking to the manager, but again, there is nothing else available and that there are also no rollaway beds. The convention took them all and the manager was not going to ask a widow or orphan to give up their bed for two grown federal agents who said they could be professional about sharing a room.

Hotch hung up the phone with a growl of frustration as Emily came back into the room with an exasperated look on her face.

"No luck?" she asked without any hope in her voice.

Hotch shook his head and arched an eyebrow at her.

"No," she sighed. "They're out of rollaways."

Hotch growled in his throat. Great! Just what he needed, make an already awkward situation he's trying to fix even more awkward.

Suddenly Emily straightened her shoulders and stiffened her back. "It's just one night," she said stoutly. "And we are professionals and adults." She eyed the bed which, unfortunately, was only a full-sized one. The room was tiny and likely wouldn't have been able to accommodate an extra bed anyway. It was going to be cozy tonight.

Suddenly, the thought of being trapped in a room this small, let alone a bed, with Hotch became overwhelming to Emily. She thought quickly and stammered out,

"Well, if there's nothing more tonight, sir, I think I might try to look up an old friend here in town." It sounded lame even to her ears.

Hotch frowned at her. She knew someone in town? He didn't know that and she hadn't mentioned anything before, but then again, they weren't exactly on sharing terms. For a brief moment he wondered if she was meeting a man and a flash of anger and something else went through him. Hotch blinked, wondering where that strong emotion had come from. He looked back at Emily who was looking inquiringly at him.

"No," Hotch said slowly. "We've covered everything we needed to on the plane, but I do want to get over there early so I wouldn't have too late of a night."

She nodded her head sharply. "Of course." She moved to put her go bag by the armoire that housed a chest of drawers and the TV. She started to the door, but hesitated a moment to look back over her shoulder at Hotch who was staring absently out into space. In that unguarded moment, he looked sad and tired and Emily felt her heart go out to him. Her step faltered and she was about to say she changed her mind and would stay, but then he looked at her and his supervisor mask slipped over his features again.

"Yes? Is there something else?" he asked inquiringly.

Emily looked at him a moment, the words on her lips and then she can hear him again, saying those hateful words of how she had only been in love with a sociopath-terrorist and could never understand his feelings for Beth. Her heart and her eyes harden and she can tell he sees this as the furrow in his brow becomes deeper and he starts to move towards her, but she only offers him a "No. Good night, sir" before she spins gracefully on her heel and leaves him alone in their hotel room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: I will have to say that anyone who says that Hotch could never be fooled by a serial killer Beth, if you haven't seen how they first meet, then you don't know that they're writing Hotch as not being too bright. Truly, it's a stupid set up, but IMO, what's worse is that it makes Hotch look. In their first meeting scene, someone with Hotch's job, with his experience, the fact that he was once a victim of a serial killer, would not have acted that way in that scene. No way. In Criminal Minds' inexplicable need to try to create a "meet cute" scene, it just comes off as silly and unbelievable.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: On a bit of a roll tonight. Hope you enjoy this next part and yes, things will begin to take a bit of a twist for our gorgeous duo.**

* * *

><p>There was no old friend in town and as soon as Emily left the hotel, she was at a bit of a loss of what to do. She couldn't go back to the room and she frankly didn't want to see Hotch any time soon. There was a nearby shopping mall where she figured she would at least find some place to get dinner, maybe pick up a book or catch a movie.<p>

The mall was located two blocks from the hotel and there were plenty of people out and strolling about in the cool spring evening. It was a large mall with several good restaurants, but she opted for a more pub-style place. She knew she was marking herself as a single-lady, but she hated eating alone without something to do so she swung by a bookstore to pick out some reading material.

As she was want to do, she got lost among the books and time slipped away from her so when she emerged with her purchase, the crowds had thinned out a bit and the pub was fairly empty when she went in. The cheerful hostess sat her in a secluded corner and she ordered a completely unhealthy dinner of cheeseburger, fries and a beer. Emily figured after the trying day she's had, Hell, trying month, she deserved one good splurge. She then cracked open her book and began to read, not noticing too much about her surroundings and only politely acknowledging her waitress when she brought Emily her dinner a few minutes later.

The book was fascinating and she quickly became engrossed in it. Had she been less distracted she would have noticed him immediately and been aware of his gaze. As it was, she didn't notice Hotch stop and stare when he saw her nor when he took a seat a few tables away where he could watch her unobserved.

Typically, Hotch would have eaten at the hotel, a habit Emily was well aware of. It might be more expensive, but in his eyes, it was more efficient. That way he could get back to his room sooner to either work or sleep or call home to Jack. But this time, he had decided he needed a walk to clear his mind and stretch his legs. He remembered the nearby mall and had much the same idea Emily had in finding some place to get dinner.

What he hadn't anticipated was running into Emily. With a twinge of sadness, he realized she had made up a story about meeting a friend and was simply trying to avoid being with him anymore than it was necessary. He wondered if they would ever get back to a place where they could be friends again or had his hasty words ruined any relationship they might have. He couldn't imagine not having her as something more than just a co-worker.

The hostess had bustled up to him at that point and he was about to simply tell her he had changed his mind when he decided that he wasn't going to just let things stand as they were. He screwed this one up, surely he could fix it. He asked the hostess for a particular table. Since it wasn't too busy, she was happy to meet his request and seated him in a spot where he had a clear view of Emily, but thanks to a strategically placed partition, she was unlikely to spot him unless she really looked.

He watched her as she absently ate her food, so involved in the book that she read. Hotch chuckled softly when a ketchup covered French fry missed its target and she accidentally stabbed it into her cheek. He saw her frown of annoyance as she wiped the ketchup off her face. She ate the fry and then went back to her book.

Hotch found himself enjoying watching her as she relaxed. There was always a tension about her, especially when she was around him and especially in the past month. He knew he was the main reason for it, but for all the time he's known Emily she has always had an edge about her, a wariness. He knew that some of that stemmed from her previous work with the CIA and her upbringing, but he had hoped, after all these years she would learn to drop her guard and relax around him and the others, but she never did.

As he ate his soup and sandwich he saw her take occasional bites of her own meal, far more interested in her book than food. Suddenly, he saw several men approaching her table and as if some sixth sense kicked in, he saw her tense up, though her eyes never left the book. Hotch frowned as they seemed to surround her and he was already on his feet, ready to intervene.

Emily sensed their approach and smothered a sigh. The last thing she wanted to deal with were a bunch of drunken yahoos. She hoped by burying her nose further into her book they would just leave her alone, but no such luck for the woman alone in the pub.

"Excuse us? But we have a bet going on that we hope you could settle for us?" The apparent spokesperson asked her.

She let out a small sigh and Emily looked up into the faces of four men who ranged from their mid-thirties to forties. Taking in their suits and the slightly pink faces, she realized she was dealing with the slightly drunk businessman. Great.

"We were trying to decide your profession," he continued though Emily had remained silent and the expression on her face clearly said, "Fuck off."

"We've each come up with one: Lingerie Model. Swimsuit Model. Angelina Jolie Body Double. And my personal guess, dancer." He smiled winningly at Emily.

Her jaw dropped. Seriously? That was their pitch?

Emily sighed loudly this time. "Look guys, not interested. I'm just trying to have a quiet dinner and enjoy my book. So if you don't mind."

"Oh," ringleader said with a smirk. "We don't mind." He took a seat as if she had issued an invitation.

Emily glared at him. "Listen. I want to be left alone. Would you please go away?"

"Come on sweetheart," oozed the seated man and for the first time, Emily felt the slight prick of apprehension. The other three were clearly drunk, but there was something about this man's eyes that told Emily he was completely sober, and dangerous. Her hands started to inch toward her gun and badge.

"The lady asked to be left alone, so unless you want to be arrested for harassment, I suggest you go."

Emily closed her eyes when she heard the deep, angry notes of her supervisor's voice. She looked up and Hotch stood behind the men, his hands on his hips where he was holding back his suit jacket, clearing displaying his badge and sidearm. The three standing men blanched and quickly backed away, but the man who sat across from Emily didn't move a muscle and he didn't take his eyes off of her.

Her uneasiness increased and Hotch must have spotted it. As the other three scurried back to the other side of the pub, he moved forward to stand by Emily and get a good look at her persistent suitor.

As one of the best profilers in the world, not much got past Aaron Hotchner and he sensed and saw what had bothered Emily about this man. He wasn't your typical drunken bar flirt. He was a handsome man with blond hair and gray eyes. He was as tall as Hotch, but much broader and muscular. It was those eyes that had disturbed Emily and were now getting Hotch's attention. They were flat, expressionless and on some primal level, Hotch knew this man was very dangerous.

Worse yet, he seemed to have set his sights on Emily.

Hotch slowly moved closer to his agent and pushed his suit jacket further back, exposing more of his holster and gun.

"Sir, I am going to ask you to leave." Hotch's voice was cold, absolutely frigid and his intent was clear: stay away from this woman if you know what's good for you.

Gray Eyes looked amused at Hotch's actions and he spared the male FBI agent a glance before returning his full attention to Emily.

"You are very beautiful," he said softly, his tone low and intimate, but it raised both Emily and Hotch's hackles. "I'm sorry if it's a crime to pay a lady a compliment."

"Just leave," Emily replied evenly, her eyes never wavering.

The man inclined his head and as he stood up he looked at her one more time and smiled. "I hope we get to see each other again real soon." Still ignoring Hotch, he turned on his heel and rejoined his companions.

The two agents watched him and soon the four men were laughing at the bar. Without taking his eyes off of them, Hotch said, "We're getting out of here." He signaled for the waitress who looked at him in confusion seeing him at another table. He asked for both their checks. Without even waiting for Emily and ignoring her protests, he handed over a fifty dollar bill to the waitress, enough to cover both their tabs and leave a generous tip. He wasn't risking Gray Eyes getting a look at a credit card receipt.

He quickly helped Emily out of her chair and with her jacket, still keeping an eye on the unsettling man. Gray Eyes watched them as they left the pub together and Hotch made sure the other man knew he would be dealing with him if he came close to Emily. The blond man wasn't the only dangerous one there.

"I'm assuming you walked here," Hotch said in a clipped tone as he hurried Emily along with one hand firmly against the small of her back.

"Well, you did have the SUV keys," she replied as she fairly trotted to keep up with him. She noticed he was leading her to the parking garage next to one of the anchor department stores at one end of the mall. Emily looked over her shoulder to see if Gray Eyes was following them. She didn't see him. "You saw it too?"

"Yeah. Nothing we can really point to or say is definitive proof, but when you do this long enough, you start to pick up on the vibes sometimes and there was something definitely off about him." Hotch didn't add that he wasn't too happy he seemed to be so intensely interested in Emily. It was more than his profiler instinct at work here. He realized he was experiencing other emotions as well, emotions he had no right to where Emily was concerned.

Her brow wrinkled as she looked Hotch's scowling face. "What were you doing there?" she asked suspiciously.

"Believe it or not, my presence was a coincidence. I was looking for some place to eat and remembered this mall was near the hotel." He glanced over at her. "Were you unable to reach your friend or did you make that story up to get out of spending an evening with me?"

Prentiss had the good grace to look embarrassed but then she held her head up high and simply said, "It would have been awkward and I was trying to spare both of us that."

They had reached the Bureau issued SUV they had been assigned. Hotch glanced around one more time to make sure Gray Eyes wasn't watching them and the climbed into the truck. Emily did the same on the other side. He quickly locked the doors, started up the engine and pulled smoothly out of the parking space and out of the garage to head back to the hotel.

It wasn't until they were out on the street that Hotch glanced over at Emily. He could see the tight line of her jaw and the stubborn expression on her face even though she was in profile to him.

"It's only awkward because you refuse to accept my apology," Hotch said in exasperation.

She turned astonished eyes towards him. "You're blaming _me_ for this?"

"No! Of course not! But," Hotch paused, knowing he was wading into dangerous territory. "You're holding a grudge, and I can't understand why. I said something dumb. I admit that. I'll admit that in front of the entire team, but this isn't like you, Emily, to hold something over my head like this."

"I wasn't aware I was holding it over your head," she hissed. "I simply said that we were probably better off as colleagues only. What's wrong with that? Strictly professional."

"We were friends," Hotch snapped out. At her silence, he became uncertain and looked at her. "Weren't we?"

Emily sighed and looked out the window. "It's complicated, Hotch."

He felt his heart sink. She never saw him as a friend? That stung. It stung badly. All those times she helped him after Foyet, after the explosion in New York, after Haley's death, he thought there was something there, at the very least friendship. And some part very deep inside of him had hoped it was something more. Now Emily was saying there wasn't.

Hotch's jaw tightened and only one word came to him:

_Bullshit._

For whatever reason, she was building up this wall between them. Yes, he had made an incredibly hurtful and stupid comment, but it wasn't enough to ruin years of friendship that he knew was there. His foot pressed down on the accelerator and he shot past the hotel. Emily's head swiveled around and she looked at him in surprise.

"What are you doing? The hotel was back over there!"

"We're going to hash this out once and for all, Emily. No more excuse, no more "complications". You and me, we're talking and we need neutral territory for it!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: My apologies for how long it's taking to up date this, but work has been absolutely insane since the year has started. Pratically no downtime so I have to try to sneak in writing where I can. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Hotch could feel Emily's annoyed stare burning into the side of his head, but he ignored her, his eyes glued to the road as he continued to drive. After a few minutes, she looked away from him to stare out the window, but stayed silent.<p>

After about fifteen minutes of driving, Hotch pulled off of the freeway down a much less traveled road. Emily could see he was driving through a park. Another ten minutes and they were entering a section where the trees grew more thickly together, making the night seem even darker and denser. The road twisted and turned until the trees began to thin and they came to the end of the road at a lookout point where they could see the city stretched out below them, a sea of twinkling lights in the cool spring night air.

When Hotch parked the car, Emily stared incredulously at him.

"Why did you bring me here?" How did he even know about this spot? It was so isolated and off the beaten track. "Where are we?"

"A place I used to come when I was with the field office here. Remember, Seattle was one of my first assignments with the Bureau." Hotch looked out at the view of the city. "It was a place I came to think, to clear my head. Neutral territory for us to talk."

Emily snorted in derision. "Hardly neutral if it's your 'special spot.'"

"Yeah, well, it's going to have to do," he retorted as he swung around in his seat to face her. He looked at Emily who was glaring back at him, clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation.

"I don't know what else is there to discuss," she returned. "We agreed to be professionals. You're my boss. You can't force me to be your friend."

"We were friends once, Emily," he said quietly, a little wistfully. "Friends forgive each other for stupid things, like saying hurtful things. I know I hurt you. Please, what do I need to do to make it up to you?"

He watched as Emily began to pick at her nails, the only tell she had and an obvious sign of her distress over this situation. In some ways, Hotch found it comforting that she was disturbed by it. If she wasn't, if she was simply indifferent, then there was no hope of ever reaching her again.

"I don't want anything from you, Hotch," she said in a low tone, her eyes fixed on her hands. "It doesn't matter. We're at a good place. Colleagues."

"This is a good place? You think everything is fine?" he asked in disbelief. "Surely you can't believe that!" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said."

"What part?" she asked abruptly.

Hotch was surprised. "What do you mean? Why, all of it."

"That I'm petty, vindictive, jealous? Or that I could only love and be loved by a sociopath like Doyle?" she spat out in a bitter tone.

Hotch winced, recalling the hateful words he had thrown at her in a moment of anger, words that had cut Emily so deeply, she was still bleeding from them. He took a deep breath and reached out a hand, "Emily, I'm so-"

"Hotch," she interrupted him in a tired voice, "Sometimes, saying sorry just isn't enough."

"Then tell me what is," he begged her quietly.

She shook her head. She felt tired. Tired and sad and broken and he could see that and his heart tore a little more. "Nothing. Because in that one moment, you finally told me what you thought of me, Hotch. That I'm nothing but damaged goods in your eyes. A whore who can only be loved by a murderer." She looked defiantly into his astonished and dismayed face. Fire was in her eyes, but so were tears. "But that's not who I am Hotch, no matter what you think. I am not damaged goods and I am worth loving and my love is worth something, whether you think so or not!"

Suddenly, she opened the SUV door and leapt out of the car. Hotch was so stunned, he merely sat there for several seconds before he realized she was gone. Hastily, he scrambled out of the car to follow her.

"Emily!" he yelled seeing her halfway towards the trees that surrounded them. He sprinted forward and caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. His hands went to her shoulders so he could hold her in place. "How can you believe that I would think that of you?" he demanded in a stunned voice

"Because you said it! You said all of those things to me!" she shouted back. She raised her chin at a rebellious tilt, the sheen of tears in her eyes, making them brighter. The guilt for causing Emily such pain and for making her believe he would actually think of her in such a way, nearly overwhelmed him, but he was also angry. Did she think so little of him that he would actually think of her in that way?

"I never meant it. Any of it. I don't see you in that way at all, Emily." Hotch protested. He could feel her trying to pull away from him, but he merely tightened his grip to keep her from fleeing. No more running. Every painful moment would be discussed, examined, dissected until both were both bleeding and raw in their emotions. "What I said, I said in a moment of anger because I wanted to hurt you."

She sucked in her breath sharply and Hotch nodded his head grimly.

"Hate me because I deliberately wanted to hurt you and picked spots I knew you were most vulnerable to make sure that hurt was intensified. I lashed out at you for telling me the truth because I didn't want to see that I was really a fool. A fool for letting Beth into my life. A fool for not listening to every instinct I had. To know that I was wrong about her and maybe everything. I struck out at the one person who was honest and cared enough about me to tell me the truth. And the only thing I can say is that I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Emily."

"And how does this make it better, Hotch? To know that you deliberately lashed out at me? To know that you wanted to draw blood?" Emily shook her head sadly. "Sometimes, sometimes, you can't just fix something you've broken."

"I don't believe that," he whispered, moving closer to her. He reached out a hand to touch her arm, relieved when she didn't pull away from him. "I know it'll take a lot of work on my part, but I can't lose you again, Emily."

"I don't know what it'll take," she sniffled, a tear finally making its way down her cheek. "Every time I see you, I just hear those words all over again. And then, I wonder, if maybe you aren't right about me."

"Oh sweetheart," Hotch murmured sorrowfully as he drew her close to him. He hugged her tightly to his body and murmured into her soft hair. "I am a real bastard. Of course you're none of those things. You're brave, smart, funny, and have the kindest heart I've ever seen. You're honorable and loving and any man would be honored and lucky to have you love him." He tilted Emily's head up so he could look into her watery eyes. His voice became low and soft, intimate. "You don't realize how incredible you truly are, Emily Prentiss."

Something shifted between them. In that moment, as he held her face between his hands and she looked up at him, her eyes wounded and vulnerable, Hotch could feel a stirring in his heart, a sensation he could not recall ever feeling before. His eyes grew more intense, the fingers threaded through her hair tightened ever so gently and his gaze dropped to her rosy lips.

"And beautiful," he said quietly. "Oh, so beautiful."

Emily felt her breath catch and watched wide-eyed as Hotch started to lean towards her as though he was about to kiss her. _Was he going to actually…?_ She couldn't believe it. She heard him breath out her name.

"Emily…"

Suddenly, Hotch collapsed against her, surprising her so she had no chance to brace herself as his full weight fell onto her, knocking her to the ground with Hotch sprawled on top of her. Emily gasped and shook Hotch's arm. "Hotch?"

"Hello, lovely."

Emily looked up and looming above her was Gray Eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the delay but it's been fairly busy at work. Things have slowed down a bit now so hopefully I can get back to some fic writing because I'll actually have, you know, some time off! Hope you enjoy. There really isn't much left in this story.**

* * *

><p>Emily had two simultaneous thoughts as Gray Eyes stood over her, a gun trained at Hotch's back,: Hotch was extremely heavy, his entire six foot, two frame felt as though it was built entirely of muscle and she really regretted leaving her purse, where her gun was, in the car.<p>

"Why-, why did you do that?" she gasped out. Hotch's dead weight was making it difficult to breath. "What do you want?"

"Oh surely Lovely, you know. You must have seen it in my eyes at the pub. You were made for me." Gray Eyes sent a dismissive look at the prone BAU leader. "If this one hadn't interrupted us, we would have had our good time much sooner. Who is he to you, Lovely? You're obviously not strangers. Husband? No, a woman like you would be bearing his mark with a ring and other signs. You're not his though he acts as though you are. Boyfriend then? Lovers?" He nudged Hotch's foot. "Not so brave and authoritative now, is he?" His eyes chilled and hardened. "Get up."

With a grunt, Emily managed to roll the unconscious Hotch off of her. He flopped onto this back, still out cold. The gun in Gray Eyes' hand never wavered, not did his gaze on Emily. That was why he didn't see it. Hotch's pants leg rode up slightly and in the dim light, Emily could just make out the bottom of his ankle holster. Hotch's back-up piece, she had forgotten he carried it with him at all times. If she could get to it, this would be a much more even fight.

"Take out his gun and throw it towards those trees. No tricks!" She did as she was ordered, removing the gun at Hotch's waist and tossing it out of reach towards the trees. Gray Eyes nodded in satisfaction. "Now take his handcuffs and put them on him. I don't want him to interrupt our fun, Lovely," Gray Eyes ordered her.

Emily did as she was told, manacling Hotch's hands in front of him.

"Now get up, I want to see you better."

Slowly, Emily got to her feet and stood up. Gray Eyes looked her over like a butcher deciding how to carve up a side of beef and she had to repress a shudder that ran through her.

"Take off your clothes, slowly," he commanded her. When she hesitated, Gray Eyes pointed his gun at Hotch again. "Take off your clothes or I put a bullet through your boyfriend."

"Please don't hurt him," she pleaded. Swallowing the bile that rose up in her throat, she slipped off her jacket and began to unbutton her blouse.

"Slowly, I said."

One by one, the small shell disks slipped from each button hole until her shirt hung open. Then she slipped off the tailored white blouse and stood there in her bra. She saw Gray Eyes take in her scars from her fight with Doyle.

"Oh, Lovely, do you like it rough?" Emily could see his eyes light up in pleasure and she had to resist the urge to simply launch herself at him and pummel his face. He was too far away for that.

"Maybe we should wake your boyfriend up and let him watch as I do all the wonderful things I want to do to you."

Emily dropped to her knees and draped herself over Hotch's feet. "Please don't hurt him! I'll do anything you say! Just leave him alone!" she sobbed, her left hand was shielded from Gray Eyes' sight by the rest of her body. It scrambled for Hotch's ankle holster and she had managed to begin to work the small gun there loose when she felt blinding pain on her scalp as Gray Eyes grasped her hair and started to drag her away from Hotch.

"You don't beg for him, you whore!" the man yelled as he pulled Emily along with him. She cried out in pain and reflexively brought her hands up to his wrist, to ease some of the pressure on her scalp. Her feet scrambled to keep up with him or he was going to yank out her hair.

"You only beg for me! You only want me!" He threw her in front of him and Emily landed hard on her knees and palms, feeling the gravel and dirt embed itself into the soft flesh of her hands. Gray Eyes raised his gun.

"Stupid bitch. On your knees and beg!"

She got to her feet and looked at him defiantly. "Go to Hell you sick bastard!" she spat out.

Gray Eyes face flushed with anger and he raised his gun, aiming at Emily. "I said on your knees, so why don't we start there." The gun lowered, aiming for one of her knee caps.

Emily flinched when she heard the shot, but felt no searing pain. She blinked in surprise and then saw the trickle of blood coming from Gray Eyes' mouth. He dropped to his knees and then fell forward, revealing Hotch, standing behind him with a smoking gun.

* * *

><p>He normally wouldn't be working late when they didn't have any active cases, but for once Dave Rossi wanted to finish off a few files before he took off for the night. That was why the office was practically deserted when the call came through to his private line.<p>

"Rossi," he replied absently as his pen flashed through the last of the forms he wanted to complete before leaving.

"Dave, its Hotch."

"Aaron," the older man greeted as she set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his lips. "How are things going? Anything interesting happened yet?" Like having to share a room with a beautiful brunette thanks to yours truly meddling plus two tickets to see Celine Dion's show in Las Vegas. Aloysius Creighton's price for bungling the hotel reservations was difficult to figure out, but once Garcia started waving those tickets, the hotel man had been more than willing to put Hotch and Emily in the same room, with one bed.

Though Rossi knew things were never solved by sex alone, he figured if his friends would just have one good screw, it would be a start. Alone in a room together for a few days with the sexual tension they had between them, he figured sex was inevitable.

"We caught a serial killer."

Rossi had been taking a sip of lukewarm coffee when Hotch responded and the older profiler spat the contents out of his mouth.

"Dave?"

"Sorry," Rossi grumbled as he blotted his shirt and mouth with his handkerchief. "I thought you said you and Emily caught a serial killer."

"We did. Actually, he tried to make us his next victims. Remember those murders in Santa Fe and Tempe that we were talking about last week. Brunette victims, found bound and naked, hearts cut out?"

"It's that guy?" Rossi exclaimed. "What the Hell is he doing in Seattle?"

"We knew he traveled around. Turns out he's a pharmaceutical rep. He was here for a convention when he spotted Prentiss."

"He targeted Emily?" concern was evident in Rossi's voice. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine." Hotch paused. "A little annoyed." He paused longer. "And angry."

Rossi gazed suspiciously at his phone receiver. "What did you say?"

"What makes you think I said anything to her?" Hotch sounded offended.

"Because I know you and you have that guilty sound to your voice, so what did you say to Emily?"

There was another pause that practically dripped with guilty emotion. Finally, Hotch mumbled, "I may have said something like what are the odds of her attracting yet another serial killer."

Rossi sighed in exasperation. "Do I have to remind you that you also seem to attract serial killers?"

"Prentiss pointed that out as well."

"Before or after she kicked you in the balls?"

"Right before she kicked me out of our room."

"She kicked you out?"

"Now why aren't you asking the reason Prentiss and I are sharing a room here, Dave?" Hotch's cold voice came over the line.

Shit. Oh well, might as well come clean. "Yeah, yeah, I arranged it so you and Emily would have to share a room. I thought forced quarters would make you two work things out."

"Brilliant move, Dave." The sarcasm in Hotch's voice was evident. "Now I don't have a room for the night."

"Yes you do," Rossi said firmly. "You are going to march your ass down to the front desk and get an extra room card key. Then you're going go back to your room and sit Emily down and talk to her. Grovel on your belly if you have to. This thing between the two of you is affecting the rest of the team and we're tired of it. So fix it Hotch."

"I don't know if that manager is going to give me an extra key card," Hotch said in a sullen tone.

Rossi rolled his eyes. His old friend sounded like petulant seven year old. "Just do it. And if the guy gives you any trouble, just say, 'Celine Dion tickets' and you'll be alright."

"What exactly did you do, Dave?"

"Nevermind, what's important is what you'll be doing in the next hour. Make this better with Emily before you come home, Hotch."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: Typically, I prefer Emily saving herself, but there was a reason Hotch woke up in time to shoot the killer. Hey, there's a reason this fic is rated "M" afterall!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I thought I could finish this story with this part, but it went on for far too long so there's one more part after this. I'm sure most of you have heard by now that Paget Brewster will be guest starring on Law & Order: SVU's season premiere. It's a two-hour episode and it airs directly against Criminal Minds season premiere. However, considering Beth will be in that premiere as well as the two following episodes AND Erica Messer has confirmed that Botch will continue, for me, it's a no brainer to catch the lovely Ms. Brewster on SVU. Coupled with other things Messer has said will happen in Season 8 of Criminal Minds, I have no desire to continue with the show. However, I will still be writing, but everything that happens past Season 7 does not exist in my fiction worlds. Also for those wondering, yes, I will be updating the other stories. Life is just very busy now so it's a matter of really sneaking in some writing when I can. This is just a hobby, and unfortunately, not a livelihood. Wish I could get paid for this! Thanks for your patience. This is an "M" part which means smut. Avoid if that offends. I tried to keep it tasteful and hopefully I succeeded! Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you!**

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Hotch was stalking down the hallway to his room, correction, his and Emily's room. The manager had reluctantly given him an extra key card to the room, but not after sniffing disdainfully at the FBI agent.<p>

"Please try not to lock your key in the room again," was the snooty reprimand as the manager handed Hotch the extra card.

Aaron merely glared at the man and spun on his heel. Now he was standing before the room door, his hand raised to knock when he stopped himself. It was his room as well, why did he have to knock? Sliding the card into the slot, the light turned green and he opened the door. Hotch walked into the room, letting the door close behind him with a loud click, and ran right into Emily as she was coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her damp, naked body.

Emily jumped back in surprise, letting out a small shriek. Hotch also reared back startled by her sudden appearance. His eyes widened even more when he saw that her towel had started to slip from her body treating him to a glimpse of her full and bare breasts.

Emily felt the cool air of the room hit her damp skin. She saw Hotch's eyes drop towards her chest and she looked down. She let out another shriek, but this time one filled with indignation. She pulled the towel back up and secured it more firmly around her body. She glared at Hotch.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

Aaron quelled the smart retort that was on his lips. He knew he had hurt her very much and he desperately wanted to make things u p to Emily, needed to make things up to her, but the woman was not making it easy. However, the weeks of being frozen out and tonight's events especially made Hotch's feelings and priority much clearer to him. He decided to take a different approach. Anger was what brought them to this point in the first place. He wasn't going to repeat his mistakes.

With an air of nonchalance, Hotch shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. "You heard the manager when we checked in; the entire town is booked up so there's really no other option." He pulled off his tie. "I'm sure you wouldn't begrudge me a place to spend the night, would you Emily?"

He watched her bite her lip in annoyance and her forehead creased in doubt. She might be mad at him, but he knew Emily would never throw him out with no place to go.

"Fine," she snapped. "But I definitely don't have to stay!" She started to turn away from him to gather her clothes and dress in the bathroom, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

In retrospect, the gentlemanly thing would have been to let her go get dressed, but all Hotch could think about was to not delay their talk any longer.

"Emily, don't go," he murmured in a gentle voice. "I don't know what to say to you anymore. I don't know how to make this up to you, but I so much want to. Just tell me how."

"Hotch…" she began in a weary voice.

He stepped close to her, drawing Emily close to him. His other hand came up to grasp her other arm. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, warming her bare skin, but also causing goosebumps. It was indicative of their relationship, the polar reactions this man elicited in her. Anger and concern, heat and coolness, joy and sadness. She didn't know how to deal with these conflicting emotions he invoked in her so she buried it all and went with what she knew: distance. And now, even that was failing her as she felt the conflicting pull in her again, wanting to run, but also wanting to draw closer to him.

Hotch watched her as she licked her lips and doubt crossed her face. It took some grim satisfaction that it was no longer anger he was seeing from Emily, but doubt was not much better. He pulled her even closer to him. Her hands were raised, tightly gripped around the top of the towel that covered her body. The backs of her hands bumped lightly against his chest. He began to rub her bare arms, feeling the goosebumps on her skin. He grew concerned that she was cold and tried to warm her up, never once thinking that allowing her to get dressed would be the best solution. All Aaron could think of was to find some way for him to fix things, be it the rift in their relationship or something small like the chill she was feeling.

"I hate myself for hurting you," he murmured. "I hate that I said those words to you."

"Did you mean them?" she asked with a piercing look. "Tell me the truth, Hotch."

"No," he said in a firm, unwavering tone.

"Then why did you say them?"

He swallowed hard, knowing he had to be completely honest with her. "Because I wanted to hurt you."

She jerked back, but he simply tightened his grip slightly so she couldn't pull away from him. She couldn't struggle much without the towel slipping, but she turned rigid and her features hardened.

"Let me explain," he continued.

"I wish you would, because I feel like I don't know you anymore."

Hotch continued to absently rub Emily's arms as he sighed. "I didn't really know myself until all this happened. Or at least, I didn't acknowledge things about myself." He saw Emily frown in confusion and offered her a wry twist of his lips. "Do you know why I started dating Beth in the first place?"

No knowing where this was going, Emily merely shrugged. "You liked her."

"I was lonely," Hotch replied bluntly. "I was lonely, feeling sorry for myself because I couldn't imagine any woman being interested in a man almost 50 with a young child who worked long hours, carried his demons with him and on a good day might crack a smile." He saw Emily open her mouth to correct him, but he brought up one hand to press his fingers gently against her lips to forestall any comments. "Shush, just let me finish. Beth presented herself as a woman who didn't care about any of that, found a man like that attractive. She made me feel as if there wasn't anything wrong with me. That I was normal in some way and that I wasn't alone because I wasn't compatible with anyone in the world, but that I simply hadn't met anyone yet. But then, you came along with your information on Beth, the real Beth. Well, I lashed out at you because I didn't want to believe all those things about myself. You were ruining that nice illusion I allowed myself to believe. Emily, I'm sorry about that. It was never about you, it was me trying to hurt you, make you and your evidence go away so I didn't have to face the fact that I'm alone because I'm probably meant to be."

His fingers were still resting lightly against her lips so he could feel ever vibration as she murmured, "Oh Hotch," in a sympathetic voice. Her words, the feel of her lips and breath against his skin sent a streak of heat through Hotch's body that caught him off guard. He became acutely aware again that Emily was practically naked before him and he swallowed hard.

Emily reached up with one hand to the one he held against her mouth. She pulled his hand away from her but held it in a warm, comforting grasp, cradled lightly against her chest. "Hotch, you are a wonderful man who has a beautiful son. Any woman would be so lucky to have you love her."

She spoke from her heart, from a place there she had buried so deep within her that she had refused to acknowledge it in any way. It was the same place that had been shattered by Hotch's words so acutely she had to separate herself from Hotch completely or relive her hurt over and over again and that she could not face. He was hurting and she felt the compulsion to fix it. Now, she was opening it up again, leaving herself vulnerable, but she couldn't help it where this man was concerned. It was as if her curse in life was to be at the mercy of this man who could destroy her with a careless word. She had tried to stop it, tried to fight against it, but it was useless.

Hotch smiled at her words, his heart becoming lighter and freer than it had been in weeks. He could see the forgiveness in Emily's eyes and he knew they would soon be back to where they were before the Beth debacle, but he had changed, he had realized how much he had missed her. Emily was under the impression that his words indicated he still believed he was alone and deserved to be, but what these few weeks taught him, what tonight taught him was that he was alone because he wasn't with _her_ yet.

He intended to rectify that situation immediately.

Emily flushed brightly and her head dropped. "As long as we're being honest with each other, I have to tell you that it really hurt me to think that you looked at me in that way, that I was nothing more than Doyle's whore."

Shame and self-loathing lanced through him and Hotch flinched at the pain in her voice. He pulled Emily close to him, hugging her tight to his body as he murmured, "Oh sweetheart, I will never forgive myself for ever making you think that for one second."

She sniffled into his white dress shirt, the damp strands of her freshly wash hair creating small water spots on the cotton. Emily could feel one of Hotch's hands come up to thread itself through her hair and he began to gently massage her scalp as his other hand came down to the small of her back and pulled her in closer to him. She burrowed close into his body, inhaling his masculine scent, allowing the weeks of tension, sadness and anger drain from her body.

They stood there for a few minutes in each other's arms, their embrace warming each other. Finally Emily pulled back far enough to tilt her head up to look at him, but still remain in the circle of his arms. Hotch smiled tenderly at her and brushed some hair back from her forehead. His hand lingered on her cheek and his thumb came down to stroke the smooth plane of her cheek bone. That hand then cupped her face and they were back to that moment earlier that night when they stood in the clearing and Hotch looked as if he was about to do or say something.

"Beautiful," Hotch breathed out. "Oh so beautiful, Emily. It's you I've been waiting for all of my life." His mouth moved towards hers and he pressed his lips to her soft ones, capturing the sigh she let out that sounded suspiciously like his name.

"Aaron," Emily tried to breathe out but his mouth covered hers and she was lost to everything but the sensations he was evoking in her body. Her hands came up to wrap around his neck as his drifted down her back to rest partially on her hips and partly on her buttocks.

It was the missed kiss that had almost happened earlier that night, but it was well worth the wait. It began gently, an exploratory kiss, but quickly dissolved into something more heated, more erotic. Years of longing, missed opportunities and buried feelings surfaced and both were determined to make it memorable for themselves and for the other person. Hotch slanted his mouth over hers and demanded she open herself to his probing tongue. She welcomed him in and immediately twined hers with is, both teasing and tasting the other. He pulled her lightly against him, letting her feel the hard bulge that erased any potential doubt of his desire for her.

Air became a necessity and they broke apart, gasping. Hotch immediately dropped his mouth to the delectable skin on Emily's neck and proceeded to kiss, nip and suck, eliciting moans from her throat.

With strength she swore was not in her body, Emily pulled back from Hotch. She looked up into his blazing eyes, darkened with desire, desire for her, and so many emotions. "Wha-, what are we doing? What are you doing? What do you want, Hotch?" she gasped out, trying to regain some semblance of sanity and control.

"I thought that kiss made it clear," he said in a low voice. "You. The best thing about this whole Beth fiasco was that it made me realize the woman who I was really waiting for. The woman I truly want. That's you, Emily. It's always been you." He brushed his lips gently over her features. "Even when you went into hiding because of Doyle, I still didn't realize how much in love I am. I think it's because I knew you would come back to me, that you wanted to come back, that I could find a way to make you come back. But this time, knowing you wanted to be away from me, knowing I could lose you and never see you again, it made me realize how much I wanted, no, needed you in my life."

She pulled back from him again, her heart pounding, but fear racing through her body. "You aren't just saying this, are you, Hotch? You're not just playing with my heart?"

_Playing with her heart?_ Hotch felt his own leap at her inadvertent admission. Could Emily feel something for him as well?

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice no more than a low, intimate rumble.

Emily mentally slapped herself. She hadn't meant to reveal so much of her feelings, ever. For so long Emily had buried her feelings for her boss that she had convinced herself that she was over them. When he had started dating Beth, she had truly wished them the best, burying her feelings even further. But all her walls and defenses crumbled with just a few cutting words from this man and she had been reeling since. Part of her reasons for keeping him at arms' length was a desperate attempt to rebuild her walls, to tamp down those feelings once again. But here the infuriating man was again, ripping apart the barriers she had been trying to reconstruct with a few simple words.

"Nothing," she replied stubbornly, trying to step back away from him.

He wasn't letting her go that easily and his grip around her waist tightened. Hotch's head dropped low to hers again, pleasantly noting how much smaller she seemed to be now that she stood before him in her bare feet. She felt so tiny and delicate in his arms that a masculine surge of protectiveness filled him along with other desires.

"You said something about your heart," he murmured as his lips moved close to her cheek. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, heating it and her blood. Emily closed her eyes as she felt her body sway towards him, his voice calling her more than with the words he uttered. "Tell me about your heart, Emily. What is it telling you?"

"Hotch," she whimpered.

"Aaron," he murmured, his lips now on her forehead. "You called me Aaron earlier. I like hearing you say my name."

"Aaron," she swallowed, trying to gather her wits. But perhaps it wasn't her brain that needed to dictate her next action, but her heart. That was what Hotch was asking about now, what was in her heart.

"I-, I-," she stammered. Emily swallowed hard and looked up into his eyes that gazed back at her with a gentle, loving light. "You," she whispered. "You're in my heart."

He smiled at her, not in triumphant, but in a knowing way. "Good," he said. "Because you're in mine." His head moved down once more and he kissed her.

Emily lost herself in that kiss, her arms twining around his neck as she raised herself up on tiptoes in an attempt to get closer to him. She felt herself being walked towards the bed until the back of her knees hit it and she started to sink down on top of it, bringing Hotch with her.

Aaron lay on his side next to her so he could look at Emily completely. He stroked her cheek once more and then his hand moved down to the simple folded tuck at the top of her towel, the only thing between him and her naked body. He looked inquiringly into her eyes, asking for permission and how far she wanted to take this.

Emily nodded, understanding his silent question and felt his calloused fingers brush against the soft skin of her chest as he loosened the towel and opened it, laying her bare to his eyes.

Her scars from her fight with Doyle had faded. Plastic surgery had taken care of the worst of the brand on her breast, but there was still a pinkish shadow of a clover there. The scar from the table leg had also faded some, but it was visible. She held her breath waiting for his reaction.

Hotch wondered when he would stop feeling that over-whelming anger towards Ian Doyle. What that monster had done to his beautiful Emily infuriated him almost into a blind rage, but he could not let her see that. He knew she would take it as distaste for her. It never ceased to amaze him how unaware she was of her own beauty and desirability. He quelled his anger, for what good would it do now that Doyle was dead and he would never have the satisfaction of beating him with his bare hands.

Instead, he used his hands for what they were meant to do, to bring Emily pleasure. He could tell she was holding her breath, watching him closely for his reaction. His fingers trailed down the valley between her breasts, lightly skimming the skin with his fingertips. His hand cupped the breast that bore the mark of the clover. His thumb caressed her rosy nipple, feeling it tighten immediately.

"Beautiful," he murmured reverently. "God, Emily, you're so beautiful." His head dipped to take her other breast in his mouth and languidly began to suck on it, drawing into his mouth, worrying the nipple to a painful point.

She gasped at his touch and her body arched sharply towards him, his manipulations causing a heaviness in her breasts and sex. His name came out as a whimper. It had been so long since a man touched her and her body responded with a quickness that was embarrassing. She felt her cheeks burn with a combination of embarrassment and rising desire. She moved restlessly on the bed and he thrust one leg between hers, allowing Emily to rub herself against his thigh to relieve some of the ache.

Hotch savored the feel and taste of her. His hand and mouth switched breasts, hovering over her his body beginning to burn for her. He pulled away and saw his own lust reflected back in her eyes. Quickly he removed his clothes until he was as naked as she was. He saw Emily prop up on her elbows but before she could get a good look at him, he was down his knees before her, pushing apart her legs. He glanced up to look into Emily's wide eyes.

"I'm wondering if you taste as sweet as I've imagined," he told her before his fingers parted her nether lips and he dipped his head down.

Emily's eyes rolled up into her head as she felt his tongue probe her. She dropped back down on the bed as he latched his mouth onto her and sent her head spinning. Her hands gripped the coverlet of the bed in a frantic grasp, her only anchor to reality as Hotch's oh so talented mouth and tongue teased and tasted her, manipulating her body into a writhing dance of arches and clenching thighs.

It came upon her so suddenly and intensely Emily thought she may have actually blacked out as Hotch's tongue and fingers ripped an orgasm through her body. She found herself blinking dazedly, staring up at Hotch who loomed over her prone body. She could see his lip and chin glistening with the fluids he had coaxed from her body and which now were coating her thighs and sex. Mutely, she watched as he licked his lips and swiped his chin with the back of his hand.

"Are you okay?" She heard concern in his voice, but it was also dark and strained. Emily could see him holding back his lust and desire with the barest of control. Emily marveled that she could make this man with his iron-clad will so wild and hungry. She wondered what he would be like completely uninhibited, completely out of control.

Emily Prentiss always did like playing with fire.

She reached up and pushed on his shoulder until he was lying on his back. "My turn," she purred out as she straddled his body.

Hotch arched an eyebrow at her, curious as to where she would take it. No intrigued. Incredibly intrigued and even more aroused. He could feel every ounce of blood in his body rush to his cock where it stiffened to almost the point of pain. His hands came up to cup her ass.

"I'm yours," he told her. "Not just tonight, Emily. I am yours, forever."

For a moment, she faltered, hearing the emotion in his voice. She lowered her head to kiss him gently, sweetly on his lips, letting him know the sentiment was returned.

And she would show him as well as she turned that sweet kiss into a study of carnal passion that left Hotch breathless and straining to keep from reversing their positions and having Emily under him where he would take her hard and fast, with his name reverberating off the plain walls of the hotel room as she screamed his name over and over again. Instead, his hands moved down to the coverlet and much like she had earlier, he gripped them tightly to keep them from doing what his body wanted him to do so much.

His control and patience was rewarded by Emily as her mouth moved down his body, placing kisses along his torso, her tongue swirling around his nipples and dipping teasingly into his belly button. Hotch grinned ferally when he realized her destination. She gripped his jutting shaft, eliciting a loud groan from him before her mouth delicately enclosed the tip. She ran her tongue up and down, causing a riot of sensations.

He couldn't even form words. All that Hotch could do was growl his approval, like some animal. Emily arched a coy eyebrow at him. Was that what she could reduce him to? An animal that only cared about his most primal of needs: food, sleep, sex? It was her turn to smile ferally. She tapped his thigh to get his attention. Hotch raised his head to look at her with lust glazed eyes.

"Mmmmm," she continued in her seductive purr. "Someone else tastes good too. I think I want more." He watched as he saw himself slowly disappear into her wet, red mouth.

"Jesus Christ!" Hotch howled as his eyes rolled back into his head. He collapsed onto the beds as Emily's head bobbed up and down, his cock moving in and out of her wonderful mouth.

Only fragile cobwebs held the beast within him at bay and they were slowly, deliberately snapping, one by one as Emily worked her mouth around him, her silken, damp dark hair brushing against the skin of his belly and thighs. His gut tightened painfully, his balls heavy and the urge to slam himself down her throat slowly became the one thought in his mind.

With a savage growl, he wrenched her away from him. He sat up on the bed, his hands gripping her upper arms as Emily smirked back on him, her eyes gleaming with hunger. With a snarl, he twisted his body, lifting Emily up from the floor and practically throwing her onto the bed. In a flash, he was on top of her, pinning her arms down, breathing heavily. Their faces were mere inches from each other.

"Did you enjoy that, sir?" she teased as she leaned up to kiss his jawline. "Do you like it when I take you in my mouth?"

The purring notes egged the savage in him on and he groaned low in his throat. "Loved it, but you know what I would love even more?" he asked as he pulled back from her, pushing her legs apart and kneeling between them. "This!" With one, hard thrust, he sank himself deep into her.

Emily arched sharply as he penetrated her. It had been so long and she was narrow to begin with. She felt him push and pull past the muscles that resisted his intrusion. Hotch was larger, larger than she expected and she danced on that edge between pleasure and pain. Suddenly he softly kissed her temple.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked in a gentle murmur.

Emily closed her eyes to prevent the tears that his question elicited. She had deliberately poked the beast because she wanted to see it, wanted him to lose control and take her, but even though she knew she succeeded, Hotch could still ask her this question, this sweet question about her wellbeing and she knew, though he could wound her with harsh words, this man would never deliberately hurt her.

"Emily?"

She heard the concern in his voice and she opened her eyes to look up at him. She kissed him on his mouth and murmured against his lips. "Take me, Aaron. Take me like you want." She leaned up to take his earlobe between her teeth and said in a low, seductive voice. "Hard and fast, like I know you want to. I want it too, baby." She shifted her hips to demonstrate and heard him hiss. "Come on, baby," her siren call begged.

He was never as turned on as he was now. The low rumble started in his chest, went up his throat and burst through his lips. He reared back and wrapped one long leg around his waist and the other he pulled sharply up until her calf rested on his shoulder. "Hang on, sweetheart."

She couldn't silence the screams even if she wanted to as Hotch slammed violently into her and became relentless as he pistoned his hips as he moved in and out of her. The bed creaked loudly and shuddered from the force of his thrusts. He wasn't satisfied with his angle. He yanked her other leg up to his other shoulder and slid fractionally deeper into her. His fingers gripped her hips in a bruising hold. He closed his eyes and growled his approval as her muscles clenched and unclenched around him, holding him deep inside of her.

"So good!" was his hoarse cry. "You feel so good, Em!"

"Aaron! Aaron! I can't! No!" she was babbling nonsensically as everything became too overwhelming. Her body was writhing uncontrollably as she clutched at his biceps. She let out a loud wail as her second orgasm washed over her.

She almost didn't recover from it before Hotch sent her spiraling upwards again as he frantically tried to find his own release. She could only muster an exhausted whimper as her third orgasm washed upon her and she felt the beginnings of hot cum fill her as Hotch shouted triumphantly, his hips moving wildly as he emptied himself into her.

He collapsed onto her, their slick, sweat soaked bodies melding them together, their limbs tangled like some human pretzel as their harsh breathing filled the air. Belated he realized he was crushing her. Hotch rolled off to the side, his semi-hard cock slipping from her body, eliciting a small moan of protest that made him smile. Though all he wanted to do was sleep, Hotch moved them both under the covers as their bodies were rapidly cooling down. He pulled Emily into his arms where she snuggled sleepily against his chest.

"Hotch?"

"Hmmm?" he had been about to doze off and thought Emily had fallen asleep. He shook himself awake and looked down into her face. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Where do we go from here?"

"We see where this relationship takes us," he replied easily. "I know, it won't be easy with work and the team, but I've come close to losing you too many times, Em. I'm not going to risk that again. Ever."

She traced delicate circles on his chest that was doing more to wake him up than to lull him asleep. "What do you think the team will say?"

Hotch frowned as he thought of their friends' reactions. "I think they'll be happy." He wasn't sure if he truly believed that. He suspected not everyone would be happy with this new development, but Hotch didn't care. This was about him and Emily.

"Really?" she asked in surprise. She wasn't sure they would be that happy. Maybe JJ and definitely Garcia, but she wasn't sure about the guys. She snuggled even closer to Hotch and felt his grip tighten around her.

"Hey, whatever happens, we'll face it together." He tilted Emily's head up. "You're not alone anymore, Em, and neither am I. From now on, it's us."

She smiled at his words and leaned up to kiss him. It quickly became heated, causing Emily to moan softly as Hotch rolled her onto her back.

"You're an insatiable animal," she rolled out languidly as his mouth moved down her body.

"And you love it," was Hotch's tart reply as he moved under the covers.

"Damn straight," she sighed as she felt his tongue and fingers do what they were made to do.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: And this is the it, the final part. It didn't quite go the way I imagined it would, but it is a story I managed to keep, barely, under ten parts. I do think if they had did this with Beth it would have made the character far more enjoyable and definitely more interesting than the soggy tea bag of a character Criminal Minds has actually given us. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Three days later Hotch and Emily returned to the BAU. Rossi watched them as they entered the bullpen together, neither saying a word to each other. The older man's eyes peered intently at them, cataloguing their every move. Prentiss was limping slightly and his forehead creased in concern. He hadn't realized the serial killer they ran into had injured her. She stopped at her desk and Hotch paused. He said something to her, and she nodded her head sharply. Hotch's mouth thinned slightly but he returned the curt nod with one of his own and continued on to his office.<p>

Rossi sighed. Annoyance filled him. He went through all that trouble to make sure Hotch and Prentiss were on neutral ground where they could talk and he hoped both would finally acknowledge their mutual attraction to each other and what happens? Absolutely nothing. All that money he wasted to make sure they were forced to share the same room and still nothing? Oh, it seemed that they were at least on speaking terms, so that was an improvement, but not much. Definitely not worth paying through the nose for those Celine Dion tickets. Seriously, his hard earned cash went into Celine Dion's bank account?

With an angry scowl on his face, Rossi made his way to Hotchner's office and without bothering to knock he marched in and stood directly before the other man's desk. Hotch looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" was the Unit Chief's one-word query.

"Is that all you can say?" Rossi snapped. "'Yes'? What the Hell happened?"

Hotch simply looked back at his old friend with a mildly puzzled frown. "What do you mean? You know that Prentiss and I ran into a killer, were momentarily detained by him but we managed to subdue him. We handed him over to the Seattle field office and local law enforcement. We then finished up our scheduled custodial interview and returned home."

"Not the work stuff! What happened at the hotel?" Rossi pressed. "The last time we talked you were locked out of the room."

"Oh, that. Well, like you suggested, I spoke to the manager who supplied me with an extra key. By that point, Prentiss was no longer angry. We agreed that we both needed to act more professionally than we have been, for the good of the team, and agreed we would work from a clean state and focus on our jobs." Hotch leaned back in his chair with a satisfied air.

Rossi was far from satisfied. In fact he was irritated. Dammit, he did not spend all that money to see these two exactly where they were when he came back to the BAU. "Professional? Focus on your jobs? That's it?"

"Well, what else is there, Dave?" The puzzled frown was back on Hotch's face. "We're colleagues."

Rossi threw up his hands in exasperation. "I spent all that money making sure you were forced to share a room with a beautiful woman with an incredible body and all you came away with is a 'professional relationship'?"

Hotch's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You mean you arranged it so Emily and I would be forced to share a room?"

"Of course I did," Rossi snapped back without a hint of shame. "I got tired of you moping around because Emily was freezing you out. Yeah, you acted like an asshole, but she had to forgive you otherwise I'd be stuck looking at your sad mug for years. What the Hell is wrong with you, Aaron?"

"With me?!" Hotch exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes , you! Just get your head out of your ass and finally admit you're in love with Emily so I can stop the two of you doing this tippy-toe dance around each other. Maybe you think it's cute, but it's not. Neither one of you are getting any younger. I hand you a perfect opportunity and instead of badda binging her, you decide to be 'professionals.'"

"First of all," Hotch bit out crisply, "I was not going to 'badda bing' anyone while we were traveling for work. I have the utmost respect for Emily Prentiss and she is not a woman you treat in that manner. Second, there is nothing going on between Prentiss and myself but respect and friendship. We're keeping our professional relationship now, but I'm sure we'll feel at ease enough to go back to our friendship."

"Friendship?" Rossi asked in a skeptical tone.

"Friendship."

Rossi snorted. "Yeah, and my abs are better than Morgan's. You were moping around here for weeks since Emily froze you out. That isn't how a boss reacts. You, my friend, are interested in Emily Prentiss in more than a "friend way" but you are just too stubborn of an ass to admit it."

Hotch merely stared blandly back at his old friend. "You have an incredibly active imagination, Dave. There's nothing going on."

Rossi threw his hands up in exasperation. He happened to glance out Hotch's window and watched Emily get up from her chair and move off towards the break room. Rossi frowned as he noticed her limp again.

"She okay?"

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked as he shuffled through the accumulated paperwork on his desk.

"Emily, she's limping. What did that guy do to her?" Rossi turned around to look at Hotch.

Hotch's hand paused a moment before he said in a neutral tone. "She got a deep bruise on her leg."

"A deep bruise? She get it checked out?"

"Well, you know, Prentiss. She's fine. It's just a bruise."

"She's moving so gingerly," Rossi mused. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Hotch said in a firm voice. "Now, if we're done, I need to get caught up on this paperwork."

"Yeah, yeah," Rossi grumble. "We're done." He moved to the door but paused and turned around to say one last thing to Hotch. "But you my friend are still an idiot. Beth was the wrong woman for you, but the right woman is sitting in front of you and you refuse to do anything about it. She's not always going to be single and when she's gone, you're going to regret it forever." He stomped out of the room and back into his office where he sulked for most of the day until his cell phone rang.

"Mr. Rossi," an angry voice barked out at him. "This is Aloysius Creighton from the Imperial Hotel."

The hotel manager he bribed. "Oh yes, Mr. Creighton. What can I do for you?"

"I must say that your friends, Mr. Hotchner and Ms. Prentiss were two of the worst guests I have ever encountered." Creighton's voice was practically quivering.

"I'm sorry?" Rossi asked in surprise. "You're saying my friends were disruptive."

"Disruptive is a kind way of putting it!" Creighton snapped. "I had constant complaints from their neighbors regarding the noise they made. And the state they left the bed! There were deep grooves they put into the headboard spinals from goodness knows what. Mr. Rossi, the Celine Dion tickets in no way compensates for the trouble this couple caused. Why, Reverend Bailey and his wife said it was like sleeping next door to a pornographic movie house!"

As Creighton continued to yammer on, Rossi stood up from his chair and moved over to his window that looked out over the bullpen. He watched as Hotch came down from his office and started to walk across the room, past Emily's desk. Dave did not miss the hand Hotch brought up to touch Emily's shoulder as he walked past and how his fingers trailed across it before he continued on his way.

Rossi smirked knowingly, no longer listening to the sputtering of the hotel manager.

_Friends my ass!_

* * *

><p>Emily heard her front door open and close. A voice called out to her. "I'm in the kitchen," she replied as she continued stirring the pasta sauce simmering on the stove.<p>

A pair of strong arms came around to wrap around her waist and she felt herself pulled gently back against a hard body. Warm lips touched sensitive skin of her neck.

"Mmmmm, what smells so good?" Hotch rumbled out as he began to slowly nibble on her neck.

"Home made sauce and shells," Emily moaned as he continued his assault with his mouth and one hand slipped under her shirt to stroke her soft skin. "But you seem to be hungry for something else."

"I am," Hotch replied as he reached over to turn off the stove. He spun Emily around to kiss her and show her exactly what he was hungry for.

* * *

><p>"God," Emily moaned as she wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I can't believe how hungry I am."<p>

"You worked up an appetite," Hotch said in an amused voice. He leaned over and wiped a bit of sauce off of the corner Emily's mouth that she had missed. He set his own plate aside so he could pull her into his arms. After christening Emily's kitchen table and floor, they had finally sat down to their belated dinner on the floor of the living room, Hotch dressed only in his boxers and Emily in his dress shirt.

She sighed in contentment, satiated and pleasantly aching and tired. It was only the third day of their new relationship but she had discovered that Aaron Hotchner was a man of insatiable appetites. She had no complaints. She snuggled closer into his arms, ready to fall asleep when his next words made her eyes pop open.

"I think Dave is suspicious."

Emily pushed away from Hotch so she could stare at him with wide eyes. "What? How?"

"He didn't seem to be at first. In fact, he was upset at me that I didn't recognize what an amazing and beautiful woman you are and how perfect you were for me." He smiled at her and pulled her back into his arms. He kissed the top of her head as she once again snuggled close to him. "But, at the end of the day, he had this smirk. You know, that knowing, you aren't fooling me smirk he sometimes gets? That one." Hotch rested his chin on the top of her head. "I don't know how, but he seems to have figured things out. He was asking me if you were hurt."

"What? Why?"

"Sweetheart, you were limping in the office today," Hotch said in an amused voice that was colored with a hint of male pride.

Emily snorted. "Well, excuse me, but there was a certain man in my hotel room who was insatiable and continues to be."

"What can I say," Hotch murmured as he nuzzled her hair. "You're like a drug for me, Emily. A beautiful, sexy drug that I don't ever want to give up."

"Yeah," Emily breathed out as Hotch's skillful hands began to make her body hum and burn. "Like I said, insatiable."

Hours later they were stretched out in front of a crackling fire, their bodies twined together, a throw Emily kept on her sofa covering their rapidly cooling skin.

"Rossi is really going to notice me limping tomorrow," Emily moaned.

Hotch chuckled as he tucked a curl behind her ear. "Maybe we shouldn't try to hide it."

Emily thought about this. On the plane ride back they had agreed that it would be best to keep their new relationship to themselves, partly to prove that they could have a relationship and still work together and also because it was something they just wanted for themselves, their little secret. Would it be so bad if the rest of the team knew?

She sighed. "I don't know. I did like the idea of it just being you and me in our own secret world."

"I know. Can you imagine the reactions of the team? I would have to listen to Dave's "I told you so"," Hotch sighed.

"JJ and Garcia asking about how sex with you."

"What?!" Hotch pulled back, aghast. "You're not serious?"

"Totally. Well, JJ may not ask, but you know Garcia would want all the details."

Hotch thought about it for a moment and was forced to agree about the tech analyst grilling Emily. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "Okay, we don't say anything and if they figure it out, they figure it out."

"Do you think Rossi would say anything?

He mulled this over and then shook his head. "No, you know what, I think if Dave knows we're happy, that's enough for him. He was just exasperated because he thought there _wasn't_ anything going between us. That's all he wanted, for us to realize that we would make each other happy."

"And are you? Happy, I mean," Emily asked as she propped herself up on her elbow to look anxiously at him.

Hotch smiled softly at her, a smile she had never seen before. It was so gentle, warm and full of love that she felt her heart skip a beat. He pulled her towards him until she was lying fully on top of his body, skin against skin.

"I'm the happiest man alive, Emily. You make me completely and utterly happy. I only hope I make you even a little bit as happy as you've made me."

She felt a lump form in her throat and she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. "More than a little. I've never been so happy in my entire life." She kissed him softly on his smiling mouth.

Emily rolled off him until she was once more tucked against his side. She looked curiously at him when she heard him chuckle softly.

"You know what? We both really have Beth to thank for this."

"What?!" Emily cried out, jerking up into a sitting position.

"Hey, get back here," he said as he pulled her back into his arms. She resisted a moment but finally settled back down against his side.

"What do you mean we owe Beth?" she grumbled.

"Well, if my former girlfriend wasn't a serial killer that you so brilliantly figured out, I wouldn't have been forced to confront my feelings for you and take the step that will make me happy for the rest of my life."

"So we're together because of the psycho bitch you allowed to pick you up."

"Well, yeah." Okay, it sounded weird when it was said aloud, but it was true.

"Fine, I'll send her a thank you card." Emily actually brightened at that. "Yeah, I can send her a card. Thanks for making sure I get lots of incredible sex!"

"Emily, no taunting the imprisoned psychopath. In fact, I'll feel better if neither of us have any contact with her ever again."

"I can agree to that," she murmured as she cuddled close to Hotch, exhaustion finally taking over. She yawned. "I'd be happy if we never talk about her again."

"I can agree to that," he repeated back to her. He looked down with tender amusement as he watched Emily drift off. He tilted his head to kiss her tousled curls.

"Thank you, Beth for being a serial killer and letting me find my true love."

* * *

><p><em>Fin.<em>


End file.
